The Glass Coffin Continues
by MegaDefinition
Summary: After surviving the glass coffin, Griffith and his friend must continue onwards with their game. But what Griffith doesn't know is how far he has sunk from his life above, how far he will have to descend into the hell below in order to survive. As he proceeds onwards, he will ultimately have to decide what's worth living for... and what's worth killing for.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: if you haven't already, I suggest you start off with the original one-shot, _The Glass Coffin Trap - Revised_ , before reading this. Noticed interest in a follow-up, so I figured let's do one. Should I keep this going? Please leave a review to let me know!**

 **Also, I do not own _Saw_.**

* * *

I wake up.

I don't know where I am.

Then it comes back to me, not in a flash but rather gradually: the walls closing in. The coffin splattered in blood. Someone pushed up against me. A riddle. Two people dead. Something sharp sticking in my back, my legs, my arms, my neck, my head. Two separate games. The Jigsaw Killer.

Right. Now I remember. I'm stuck in a glass coffin above two crushing slabs once considered walls. There's a girl lying against me. There's glass cutting into me and no way out... well, not that I can see. Let's face it: it's pitch black, and I'm not able to see regardless.

I feel the girl stirring against my body. Her head hits my chin buried inside my helmet, and she starts whimpering quietly again. It's all coming back to her too. I bite my lip quietly, wondering how to comfort her.

"Jenny?" I say quietly. "Jenny, you all right?"

"I'm okay," she replies. "I miss Dina and Jacks. Where are they? Will they come help us? Did they get away?"

"I don't know," I say. "I'm hoping they did. I'm hoping that they called the cops. But I don't remember anything after those pig men attacked us."

"I want to go home," Jenny whimpers quietly. "Is there any way out of here? Griffith? Is there a way out?"

I don't know how to phrase my answer without sounding depressed, but I don't really have a choice. "I told you, Jenny, I don't know. I can't see anything at all." I lift my hand from her back and wipe my eyes, thinking it will clear my vision. "So far, I reckon the way we get out is the way we got in, but I doubt that'll happen any time soon. We're still stuck in here regardless of what we try."

Jenny's hands clench my shoulders while I gently rub the side of her head. "Will somebody let us out?" she wonders aloud. "Will somebody come for us?"

"We can only hope, Jenny," I reply. "We can only hope at this point."

For several long minutes we stand - or are we lying down? I can't tell - quietly, listening for some sign of help coming to us. Then, almost out of the blue, the clanking of machinery drags us out of our stupor and ignites a spark of hope. Has someone come for us? I'm too scared to cry out.

The blackened walls above our tomb stretch open wide like a pair of jaws opening to bite down on a hapless piece of flesh. It isn't long before we can see the lights of the grate above our prison. Then our coffin starts to shift upwards, back to an angled position. The glass cutting into us starts to shift downwards as the coffin moves, and the walls move backwards until they're back in their original positions.

My breathing speeds up, and with it, my heartbeat. Jenny looks around the best she can to see what's happened. The first thing that we both see are the crushed corpses of our own siblings and a crushed gun. It causes me to shudder. "No person should have to die like that," I mutter. "That's a terrible way to go right there."

Unexpectedly, the coffin lid creaks and swings open. Neither of us move at first. Is this a trick? Are we actually being freed? What is happening? Then, cautiously, Jenny slips out first, pushing off of me and stumbling out onto the floor. She falls over, shaking like a leaf.

I move next, stepping out and brushing glass off my limbs as best as I can. The pieces on my back Jenny pushes off; I took the brunt of the glass, so Jenny doesn't have any on her.

The door in front of the coffin, the door that forcefully closed shut to seal the initial trap, now swings open with a loud, haunting creak. Jenny and I don't move, practically petrified. I don't know whether to go through that door or stay here.

Jenny and I eye the corpses warily. We then look at each other and, without thinking twice, bolt through the open door.

We're now in a hallway, a long hallway with minimal lighting. The place is somewhat deserted, desolate. Cobwebs line the corners and shadows line the walls. "This - I think this is a gas house or something," I remark, feeling the walls.

"A gas house?" Jenny says skeptically. "What's that?"

"You heard of the gas chambers in the death camps?" I ask. When she nods I explain, "It's kinda like that."

"How did you know it's a gas house?" Jenny asks. "I probably shouldn't ask, but..."

I shake my head, my breathing slowed to a stop. "We came here a lot, Jen," I say. "Remember? We were playing around with our friends, with booze and drugs and other things. Usually Dina and Jacks took care of most of the drinking; we were always hesitant, and then there were our other mates - Becca, Carson, and I think Flo too. Then came the accident; that cut me off from you lot. And now I'm here, and so are you."

Jenny shivers. "That's creepy."

I figure I might as well ask about her. "Why do you think Jigsaw's gone after you?"

Jenny's hesitant to answer me, but she eventually does. "I honestly don't know why he's gone after me. But I don't want to think about that."

I bite my lip again. I had a strong feeling I might end up with that sort of answer. Jenny's always a stubborn mule when it comes to getting the truth out of her.

"How do we get out of here? There are no doors anywhere, or at least - not that I can see - and I don't see any windows either." Jenny's voice cuts back into my thoughts.

I look around. "If there aren't any doors or windows, then I think our only option is to find the Jigsaw Killer. For the moment, let's keep moving. There has to be a door around here somewhere."

So we continue walking down the hallway, searching for a way out of this rutted place.

It isn't long before Jenny slows to a stop. "Look," she says quietly, pointing upwards.

I follow her gaze and see a TV right above us. "Oh boy," I mutter. "Stay close to me, will you? No good can come from that."

We slow our pace and continue on, but the TV flashes to life and forces us to stop in place.

My eyes widen significantly, and I drop to my knees. "Oh my god!"

 _It's Billy the Puppet!_

 _"Congratulations,"_ he says. _"You survived. Most people are so ungrateful to be alive. But not you. Not any more. For now, at least."_

Jenny stammers, terrified, "Wh-what do you want with us?! Let us go! What'd we d-do to you!?"

But it's like Billy never heard her. _"Unfortunately,"_ he continues, _"your game isn't over yet. There are still several rounds to go. So I leave you here for now, and bid you continue onwards to your next round."_

The TV cuts off there, leaving a single white word on the top: _Continue_.

Jenny lets out a little whimper and collapses to her knees. I can't move myself; I don't want to move. "There's more than one round?" I remark.

"I want to go home!" Jenny whimpers quietly. "I don't want to play any more games!"

"I don't think we have a choice," I say. "How else are we going to get out of here?" Then I remember something else. "Hey, Jenny," I say slowly, "you reckon that our friends are here too?"

We start to walk through the door and that's when we see them: our two friends, Jacks and Dina, are sitting in front of us with their heads placed in their lap. Jacks is the first to see us, and when he does he jumps to his feet and cries, "You got caught too?!" He taps Dina and points at us excitedly. "They're here too! We don't have to go through this alone any more!"

Dina is pretty happy to see us, so we all share a group hug. Then Jenny and I fill them in on what happened to us, and how we're all stuck in a massive game of Jigsaw's. Then entire time we talk, I get the feeling that we're being watched by someone. There's no way that the game is over that easily. No way in hell.

When we finish, Dina says, "So you two were thrown in a death trap? Huh. Jacks and I were stuck in here the whole time."

Jacks shrugs. "Got any idea why we're stuck in here?"

"Maybe it's something we did?" I suggest. "I mean - that's probably one of the most logical reasons why we're stuck here. There has to be a connection. Let's think about it. What connects all of us together?"


	2. Chapter 2

_A month ago._

 _A single trail of smoke curls up from a hole in the roof of a barn. It's from a cigarette, one that's been freshly lit. The barn has horses on the ground floor and hay as well; the horses are a variety of ages, young to old, newborn to aged. There are also scattered, empty beer bottles on the floor - one or two have a little liquor left in them - and as the horses stand in their stalls another bottle comes flying down from the loft, where the majority of the hay is stored.  
_

 _Voices follow, drunken voices, all of them discussing what to do next in the nighttime. Some are up for cruising the streets, some are up for grabbing more booze, some just don't care. Among them I sit, listening to the conversation they're having. I watch as Carson takes another puff of his cigarette.  
_

 _The barn door opens and all talk stops. We peer over the edge of the loft and look down. It's the barn's owner, in to feed his horses most likely or to check up on them. One of my colleagues snickers, but we all quietly climb out onto the roof and sit down to continue._

 _Then we're spotted by the barn owner. He yells at us angrily, says he's got his shotgun with him. Frightened, we abandon our drinks and our drugs, jump from the roof to the ground and take off for our truck hidden in the nearby woods.  
_

 _We all pile in, with Jacks at the wheel. He slams his feet down on the gas, but there's one problem - I didn't get in the pickup! One of my mates had shoved me out in her haste to get in! I'm trying again as he slams down on the gas, leaving me stuck in the pickup's bed!_

 _I go careening into the tailgate, whacking my head good, and scream at Jacks to stop the truck and let me get inside. But my friends are too drunk to listen to me. Jenny's the only one who's sober enough (aside from me, who hasn't drunk any liquor) to realize I'm stuck back there and tries to wrench the wheel away from Jacks or get the keys, anything to get him to slow down. It's a big mistake. Jacks knocks her into the backseat while Dina climbs into the front. I watch in the pickup bed as Jenny looks at me, mouths "I'm so sorry!" and then quickly fastens a seat belt over herself.  
_

 _As we travel down the road Jacks continues to accelerate like crazy, causing the pickup to nearly go out of control. I huddle as best as I can in the back; I'm so terrified I can't think straight. I scream again for Jacks to slow down, practically begging by this point. Does he listen? Nope.  
_

 _A blur of headlights flashes by us as we roar towards town. The next thing I know, Jacks is swerving across the road like a sort of figure skater or something stupid like that. He's also laying on the horn at anything and everything that comes our direction. I think to myself, 'It's a miracle we haven't hit something yet!'_

 _Another blur of headlights comes towards us. We're on the wrong side of the road as it does. Jacks continues to floor it, but now everyone is screaming at him to watch out! Stop! Slow down!_

 _Out of all of us, I think Jacks is the drunkest. He doesn't listen to us and pushes onward; maybe his drunken mind is making him think he's in a racecar or something like that. Abruptly there's a loud crashing sound. Before I know what's happening, I'm catapulted out of the truck's bed and land on... I don't know if it's the road or the grass on the sides of the road or the vehicle we hit or the pickup itself. I'm tossed around like a rag-doll in seconds that mean life and death. My vision cuts out upon landing.  
_

 _They then open wearily. I feel pain all over, a sharp, pulsing pain. Blood pools around my stomach and head; some drips out my nose. My vision is fuzzy, but I can make out a few objects: a roaring fire coming from two smashed cars. Someone stuck inside one of the cars. Objects walking away - unharmed, it looks like. Then I pass out, but whether it's from blood loss or oxygen deprivation or something... I have no idea._

 _I wake up in the hospital.  
_

* * *

I'm still thinking about the accident, the accident that landed me in the hospital covered in bandages and with a medical helmet shaped like the helmet of one of my favorite Anime characters. My friends are talking out loud, trying to pinpoint what the connection between us is.

Dina wonders aloud, "You don't reckon it was Griffith's accident that's caused us to be stuck here, do you?" She runs her fingers through her hair.

Jenny doesn't say anything. Jacks says, "Impossible! How can he figure out it was us in that accident? I don't remember a bit of it!"

"Because you were drunk, Jacks," I grunt. "Look, it might be the accident. But is there anything else? I - I'm just not sure that it's my accident that's got us all trapped here! What happened afterwards? Was there anything?"

"Don't you know, Griffith?" Jenny asks softly.

I shake my head no. "I woke up in the hospital. I don't remember much about the accident except for the impact. I'll admit it - I still have nightmares about it." It's a little white lie. I remember more than I claim to, but I don't want to let them know that. I was the only one who didn't drink, so my recollection of it is pretty good. "What do you mean by that? Did something more happen?"

"I don't remember much more about it. But why do you ask us about that? Didn't you watch the news?" Jacks says.

I shake my head no again. "I wasn't allowed to see much of anything; I found out I had a nasty concussion as well as a few broken bones and blood loss, so the doctors and nurses kept me - literally - in the dark until my brain had safely recovered. Why? What happened?"

 _"You know what happened."_

All of us jump to our feet as another TV screen flashes on. Billy's back!

Jacks and Dina are angry while Jenny and I are scared. Jenny envelops me in a hug while Jacks and Dina start screaming at the TV.

"You piece of crap! Let us out of here! What did we do to you!?" Jacks starts. "Go on! Let us out!"

Honestly, I don't think Jacks realized that Billy's obviously not going to answer him. I draw a little comfort from this fact, and Jenny does too - and not just because I whisper it in her ear.

 _"After the accident, you lot abandoned Griffith there on the tarmac, not caring whether he lived or died. Only one of you had the sense to phone for help, but you too also left before paramedics arrived,"_ Billy goes on. _"This is only just one part of the puzzle that is that night. The accident was last to occur. We shall go in opposite order for the game. The next round will contain one of these pieces, as will the others."_

"Let us out!" Jacks thunders.

 _"It's time to continue on to the next round."_

The door swings open as the TV flashes the word _'Continue'_. I exchange glances with my cohorts and say, "Come on. Let's get this over with. The sooner we do, the sooner we can get out of here, right?"

"Damn right about that!" Jacks rushes through the door. Dina follows close behind. Jenny and I do too; she continues to cling to me worriedly. I don't blame her; she's scared half to death as am I.

The second we all go through the door it clangs shut. A series of lights pops on, with spotlights centered on a glass box on the far - wait. There isn't one. There's _three_. Three glass boxes, all with spotlights on them.

Billy continues to speak, this time through some sort of intercom system. _"Only one of you can play this game. The other three must sit this one out by standing in the glass boxes over to the right. Now choose who will play this round of the game."_

Jacks and Dina exchange glances and then dash into two of the boxes and slam the lids shut before Jenny and I can move. My eyes widen significantly. Of course they don't want to play this game! They want no part of any of this! Then again, they didn't have to go through the coffin trap or anything like that, so of course they don't want any part of it!

Jenny looks up at me. "You or me, Griffith?" she asks quietly. "You or me?"

I think hard. Jenny's a few years younger than me. She's still got her whole life ahead of her. As for me? I've practically got nothing aside from my current condition. I swallow uneasily. The choice we make now is the one that could possibly seal someone's fate. Will it be her or will it be me?

 _"One box remains. Come on now. Make your choice. Who's playing?"_

I don't have to think any longer. I hiss in Jenny's ear, "Get in the box. I'll take this game."

Jenny gulps, but obeys. She walks over to the box and pulls the lid shut. Her eyes are watering, her mouth trembling. Then she looks away.

Billy begins speaking again. _"So the others have elected you to play the game. Very well. Let us begin. What none of you realized when you entered those boxes is that these aren't boxes. They are crematoriums."  
_

The second he says crematoriums Jenny lets out a scream of fright. I freeze in place with a look of horror upon my face. I wasn't expecting this! I don't think any of us were!

 _"The only way to free yourselves is to input the correct switch on a panel in front of you."_ A light lands on a panel much like those you find at a mechanical plant or something. There are six switches on it, each with a number between one and six (including one and six themselves). This must be my job. _"However, only the one outside the crematoriums can see the switches. On the roofs are three riddles, each of which tell a button to push. But choose wisely with each press, and if I were you I would hurry. Should you press the wrong one three times or run out of time, all three furnaces will be ignited, and you will have no other option of escape except for burning to death in your makeshift tombs. Oh, and I'd be careful with your choices - every wrong option removes some time. Hurry up and program your selection. The clock is ticking."_

The clock above the three boxes switches on, displaying a time limit of three minutes. Then it starts ticking down: 2:59.34.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no! Griffith, you gotta get us out of here!" Dina yells, pounding on the glass.

"Think, you guys! He said to look at the ceilings!" I cry. "Look up at them!"

"Are you mad?!" Jacks cries.

"Just do as he said!" I yell at him. "Do you want out of there or not?!"

All three look up at the ceilings and start screaming their riddles at me. I throw my hands up and cry out, "One at a time, goddammit!"

Jenny opens her mouth to speak but Jacks interrupts her. "Mine says 'Between the first and the fourth, take that away from the latter'! It's the third one! Push the third one!" he insists. "That's the right one!"

I gulp and do as he says.

There's a loud beep, and a box lights up underneath the timer: it's a bright red X! Strike one!

"That wasn't it, Jacks!" I cry aloud. "Jenny, what's yours?!"

Jenny tries to say her riddle but Dina beats her to it. "How much time do we have left?!" she wails.

"About two minutes!" I reply quickly. "Jenny, your riddle!"

Jacks yells, "Two minutes!? I thought we had two minutes and thirty seconds!"

"The time goes down with every wrong chance!" I cry. "Jenny, please!"

But Dina cuts her off again. "'Between the last and the halfway, take away the one on the left of the halfway from the last'! But I don't understand what it means!"

"It's a math riddle, you blooming idiot!" Jacks yells. "It's the fourth one, Griffith! The fourth one! That's what her riddle is telling us!"

I look up at the time. 1:30:09. Do I dare take this risk and get another strike?!

I don't have another option except choosing one at random. I slam my hand down on the fourth one. "Please be right! Please be right!" I say aloud worriedly.

BEEP! A second bright red X appears. Strike two! I have one chance left!

 _"That wasn't it either!"_ I wail. "Come on, you guys! Think! Please think! This is my last chance!"

1:00.00. Then 00:59.56. I have a minute left as well as one chance!

"Jenny, I need your riddle _now_!" I cry. "If you two interrupt her again I'll leave you behind!"

Jenny finally cries from inside her box, "'The middle and right have the numbers you need! Take them away and you will be free!'"

I start talking to myself, struggling to solve this one. My cohorts are starting to scream at me to choose one at random, but this riddle might be the one! "Between the first and the fourth, take that away from the latter! Between the last and the halfway, take away the one on the left of the halfway from the last! The middle and right have the numbers you need! Take them away..."

I look up at the clock. 00:30:00. Thirty seconds!

"Griffith, you jerk! Choose one or we're all dying here!" Jacks wails.

"Griffith!" Dina cries. "You're wasting time! We're going to die in here if you don't do something!"

I close my eyes and think hard, trying to understand Jigsaw's riddles. I think I know what he means. I look up at the clock again.

10... 9... 8...

 _"Griffith!"_ Jacks yells. _"We're going to die and you're doing nothing!"_

5... 4... 3...

I slam my hand down on the second button.


	3. Chapter 3

00:01:00.

The timer has stopped a second away from oblivion. There isn't a bright red X next to the other two. My breath is shallow, coarse through my body. My eyes are watering like crazy. My body is shaking. When the crematorium doors spring open I crumple to my knees, murmuring quietly to myself. "I did it!" I gasp, barely hiding sobs. "I did it!"

Jenny runs to my side and hugs me tight. "You did it!" she says softly. "I knew you would do it!"

Jacks and Dina aren't that grateful as they step out. Jacks stammers, "How did you figure it out, Griffith!? I mean - that riddle was near-impossible! Even I had a hard time with it!"

"Same!" Dina says, running her fingers through her thick black hair. "How did you pull that off?!"

It takes me a few minutes to reply; I'm practically giddy with relief. "Math - is one - of my best subjects," I stammer, throwing my arms around Jenny and pulling her in for a tight hug. "It was pretty easy to figure that sucker out."

Then it hits me: if these are crematoriums, obviously I'm missing something. Something else must have happened that night. Jigsaw's words run back through my mind: _"This is only just one part of the puzzle that is that night. The accident was last to occur. We shall go in opposite order for the game."_ I go back through my recollection of the accident. Was the wreck for this or was that something else?

The door at the far end of the room swings open, allowing us to continue on. Up ahead the passageway is dark and foreboding; Jacks grabs a lighter from his pocket and proceeds onward. "Don't dawdle, you guys! It won't do us any good!"

As we walk on I ask Jenny quietly, "Jen, what do you remember about that night?" When she hesitates I add, "Jigsaw's words are getting me thinking. Remember that he said the accident was last, and that we were going in reverse order for our game?"

Jenny nods. "I don't think our glass coffin trap was part of it, but maybe? I don't know," she admits. "If anything, I'm scared half to death!"

We walk onwards through the house, searching for a way out. Jacks and Dina are leading the charge, with Jenny and I following close behind. We're looking around constantly for booby traps or televisions, Jigsaw too. He's the one who put us here, so he probably knows how to get out of here. So the next question is... where is he?

"Wait," Jacks says abruptly, stopping dead in front of us. "Look there." He points up ahead, having noticed something really off.

There's a TV in front of us, but instead of being black, it's static with the classic lines of a tape being rewound. That's not the only thing that's there - in front of us is another trap, one with our friend Becca in it... or is it Carson? None of us can tell.

Cautiously we press towards the TV and the trap. The second Dina crosses over to the TV (she's the first one there) the lights abruptly snap on.

A host of yelps and shouts escape our mouths. "Oh shit!" "What the f-?!" "Oh my god!" A wail (I think that last one is Jenny; I'm too focused on the scene in front of me to tell).

The first thing that catches our eye in the lights is the corpse. The corpse is lying flat on the ground with the back and the back of the skull ripped open, exposing bone and tissue, with blood heaped everywhere and in a pool around the body too. The rip is vertical, and from looking at the wall it doesn't take us long to realize what caused the rip. Sticking out from the wall is a tire covered in blood, dripping down onto the floor; little bits of bone and muscle tissue are embedded in the treads. More blood is scattered on the wall behind.

The corpse has four chains attached to it: one on each wrist and one on each ankle. These chains go back into the wall, diagonal from the tire sticking out. Some short distance in front of the corpse are lots of keys on strings. About ten or fifteen are on the ground; one is covered by the corpse's hand. The sight is a gruesome one, and after a few minutes Dina backs into another corner and begins struggling not to vomit.

Jacks winces; I gently push Jenny off and cautiously get closer to the corpse. Who is this? This isn't one of our friends, is it?

I bite my lip as I kneel down on the ground and cautiously turn the bloody head my direction. A second later I jump backwards with a yelp. "Jesus!"

The head is much worse than the back and back of skull. Due to the tire ripping into it, the fragments of skull have gone right through the person's face and forehead; that explains the large pool of blood around the head. The face is also super sticky with blood, but there's just enough feature left to help us recognize who it is.

"Becca."

Jenny says the word with a hint of fear in her voice. It _is_ our friend.

It doesn't take me long to guess the trap. "The keys - maybe she had to unlock the shackles before she was pulled back into the tire?" I guess. "Maybe the tire was spinning at a high rate of speed?"

"That's probably it," Jacks agrees. "How else would her back be cut open like that? But how come she went through this death trap?"

I gesture towards the TV. "You think there's a chance we can get the tape to replay? It might hold some answers."

As if on cue, the TV springs back to life. There's another image of Billy, and he begins speaking earnestly.

 _"Hello, Becca. From the time you first started smoking, you had no care in the world aside from getting your next hit. Your friends were willing to help you get your next pack of cigarettes, regardless of the type, regardless of who was injured in the process; but there aren't any friends here, Becca, to help you with this kind of hit. You often called your friends the key to your successes. Now the key to your success is right here in front of you... or should I say keys? One key unlocks all of the shackles bound to your wrists, but it will take some finding. Hurry up and find it, but watch your time. When the timer runs out, you will be faced with a hit more like what you suffered on that night a month ago. Do you have what it takes to_ _survive? Get hunting, Becca."_

The TV returns to static, Billy's voice dragging through the air. Jacks gulps. "I don't think she won that trap," he says uneasily. "Not by a long shot."

"Nope," Dina agrees, very nauseous in her speaking.

I choose this opportunity to hit Jacks with a question. "Jacks, when Jigsaw said 'The accident was last to occur', what did he mean by that? What else happened that night?"

Jacks looks at me oddly. "Don't you remember?"

"Jacks, I was flung across the pavement, knocked unconscious and then stuck in the hospital for the past month! Of course I don't bloody remember!" I cry angrily. "What else happened?!" At this point I'm sick of being left in the dark. I want to know what happened!

Jacks sighs and begins speaking. "We found out on the news that the barn we were at before your accident had burned down. The horses and the farmer were inside. Of course, the police questioned all of us - well, except for you, for obvious reasons - but they never got anywhere with us. They found a can of kerosene in the barn and assumed it was that that started the fire." He stops speaking and wipes his forehead. He's sweating.

"We caused it somehow, didn't we?" I say slowly.

Jacks doesn't say anything. Neither does Dina or Jenny. I don't try to push them further. For the moment I'm content with what I've been told, but eventually I know I will want the whole story. If it means I abandon them to get it, then I will.

We just stand there in the room for several minutes. Then Jacks and Dina decide to exit the room, going back out the way we came. Jenny approaches me quietly, shaking like a leaf. I pull her against my side and we follow them silently. There's no denying how scared we are.

* * *

Within a matter of minutes we find ourselves directed to another room. This room is plastered with reports from newspapers and case files, some on the walls, some on the table in the room, and some on the floor. Also in the room is a circular table and a set of buzzing televisions. On the circular table is a small red box surrounded by candles, some sort of signal that it's very important.

Jacks murmurs, "What the hell is this crap?" He moves over to the wall and looks at one of the clippings pasted on it. "What the - this is from a month ago!"

His words cause Jenny to tremble and hold on tightly to me. I wrap my arms around her and gently pat her head to try and reassure her; I have no idea if it's working or not, but I know it's at least one thing I can do.

Dina's engrossed in reading newspaper clippings and pieces off... are they blogs? I don't know. Jenny and I turn our attention to the small red box; Jenny averts her eyes, worried there might be something disgusting in it, while I cautiously open the lid.

There's nothing in there except an audio tape. Not sure what to think, I pick up the tape and press play.

Jigsaw's voice echoes once again through our ears. _"You could have turned and helped your friend, the farmer, the passengers. But you didn't. You cared only about yourself. So should it be a surprise that you care about yourself in these tests?"_

The tape clicks off, leaving us standing there alone with the silence of the rooms and the small buzzes of the televisions. I realize that Jigsaw mentioned a farmer and passengers... what did he mean by that?


	4. Chapter 4

The door in front of us swings open, disrupting my thoughts. None of us move, unsure of what lies beyond it. Another trap? More puzzles and games? More of our friends? The possibilities seem endless as we stare into that dark void ahead.

 _"Hohohohohoehehehehehe!"_

We jump backwards in fear. Billy the puppet comes rolling in on his bright red tricycle, his red eyes standing out along with the red spirals on his cheeks, his tuxedo looking dashing even in the carnage. His cackle bounces off the solitary walls of our confinement, ringing through our ears with flashes of horror.

Luckily it stops after a few runs. It takes about three seconds for us to relax.

"Okay, let's admit it: this mofo is better than the actual Jigsaw," Dina says aloud, running her fingers through her hair in relief.

"Agreed," I say. Still I'd prefer not running into either of them, but if I had to choose one I'd rather take Billy than Jigsaw."

Without any warning whatsoever Jacks lunges forward and kicks the tricycle. Billy falls off after a few hits. Jacks picks up the tricycle and throws it back into the room where it came from; he then turns his attention to Billy.

"Jacks, what the hell are you doing?!" I cry aloud.

"Getting rid of this dumbass effigy!" Jacks replies.

Jenny rushes forward to try to pull Billy from his grasp, but he shoves her to the floor and starts whacking the puppet on the walls, the floor, the tables - whatever's in reach (which includes us). He goes further with his destruction, tearing at Billy's suit, his hair, his eyes, ripping off his limbs and bashing the puppet with them, wrenching the jaw clean off and smashing the head against the wall, yanking out the eye sockets and the hair. The shock is ended when he finally rips Billy's head off and throws it back into the room.

"That's exactly what you deserve, you scum!" he cries triumphantly. "Your toys are nothing to us, Jigsaw! You hear me?! _Nothing!_ "

For a moment we're just standing there in shock. Jenny's managed to make her way back over to me, whimpering pitifully with fright. Dina and I are frozen in our tracks. Jacks stands there panting like a mad bull, his rage satisfied. The silence is overwhelming. Then -

 _"Hohohohohoehehehehehe!"_

Billy's laugh abruptly echoes through the area. Our eyes widen in fear and Jacks whirls around to stare at the doorway.

 _"Hohohohohoehehehehehe!_ _ _Hohohohohoehehehehehe!"__

Silence again.

"THE F%#K?!" Jacks screams. "There's no way that thing's still working! I destroyed it!"

Dina rushes to comfort him. "You did, Jacks, you did. That creep's playing mind games with us again," she reassures, patting his arms and back gently. "Come on. There's gotta be a way out here." She pulls Jacks through the door.

I don't move at first. I'm reading the articles on the walls, trying to find answers. When Jenny tugs on my arm and starts pulling me towards the door, I reluctantly follow - but not before tearing off one at random. I stuff the article in my pocket, planning to read it later.

The second we walk through the door it slams shut behind us and locks. At this point it's pretty common to expect that. What's not common to expect is the lights snapping on... and revealing another trap before us.

In this trap is one of those Iron Maidens from old times, but I notice immediately it's got a few modifications. Instead of spikes on the walls, there's a vent with a grill and nozzles underneath. There's also a person shackled inside, a woman with dark blonde hair.

"Oh my god - Flo!" Dina rushes forward and starts struggling to unlock the clamps. "Jacks, help me!"

There's also a lot of buckets around the room, and from looking in one, I can see that it's filled with a huge load of needles. My eyes widen and I slowly step away. This is _not_ good. This is _definitely_ another one of his traps.

At this point our friend Flo's woken up, and while she's relieved to see us here, she's practically begging us to let her down.

"I can't get these restraints loose!" Jacks cries, angrily wrenching away. "They won't go! Damn you, Jigsaw!"

He and Dina back up. Then all three of us see the same thing that Jenny had noticed earlier but didn't speak of: there is one big glass box on the far side of the room, and she's in there watching. This game is meant for one.

 _I'm not playing this one!_ I think to myself, and I break into a run for the box.

Jacks lurches forward and shoves me to the ground, pulling Dina past. As I get to my feet he dives into the box and pulls Dina in behind him. I reach the box too late - he slams the door shut right when I get there.

I pound on the door and shout angrily, "Curse you, you scum! Curse you!"

Then a TV in the corner snaps on. Jigsaw's voice and - _Billy the puppet?_ \- appear.

 _"Hello, Flora, or as they called you in your school, Flo. As the oldest of your group of friends, you could have swung the moral direction of your choices around to benefit both you and your friends in a positive manner, rather than go down the path of a drug addict. Instead you chose to light the flame of your obsession, just as you light the end of a cigarette."_

I back away from the box while he's speaking. Flo's eyes are wide with terror. Jacks' triumphant little smirk has been wiped clean off his face, replaced with shock as he sees Billy back again. I can't see Jenny; Dina's holding on to Jacks with a tight grip.

I walk towards the cage, listening to Jigsaw speak.

 _"But it was the needle that intrigued you most, Flo. Such an easy tool to dispose of, which you did in the fire that you set. You could've stayed behind and tried to help the farmer or his horses, but you hurt them instead, and not just by abandoning them. Their deaths were torturous, Flo, just as yours will be."_

Flo cries, "Let me out -"

"Shut up!" I snap.

 _"The device you are in, if you haven't already guessed, is an Iron Maiden. Usually, spikes would be used to impale people on the walls. However, this one will become your tomb should the person standing in front of you not find the key to release you from your shackles. Fortunately, the key is in a safe place. Unfortunately, the only way to find the key is to dive into your obsession. Find the key before the clock runs out, or you, Flo, will face the same fate as the poor farmer and his poor, helpless horses."_

A clock snaps on and begins counting down from 2:00:00. 1:58:47...

 _"The clock is ticking."_

My eyes are wide with fear. It's a straight-up guessing game! There's no time to ponder which bucket is right - I have to start hunting now or Flo is a goner.

Reaching the nearest bucket, I stare for a moment at the needles inside before taking a deep breath, letting out a yell and plunging my hand into the bucket.

Needles sharp as knives stick through the bandages into my arm. They burn terribly, causing me to scream aloud as I hunt for the key. I forcefully rip my arm out after my hand grabs something.

It's a needle. No key here.

1:36:98.

"Griffith!" Jenny yells, trying to get my attention.

"Shut up and let him concentrate!" Dina snarls at her. "Come on, Griffith! You got this!"

I reach the next bucket and plunge my hand in again. Another loud scream rockets through my lungs and out my mouth. The pain is starting to get to me, all of these needles sticking through the bandages in my arm and piercing my skin. As I rip my arm out a second time with no key, I notice the blood starting to seep through my bandages. This is _really_ not good!

1:10:17.

I try a third bucket, then a fourth, then a fifth. Still nothing. By now my pain level is rising so high that I'm not sure I can continue with this.

My friends are screaming at me to keep going, but I can't think straight. My arm hurts so bad - the needles are stuck under there like daggers, and with me being the way I am, it's next to impossible to pull them out without losing the needles themselves, the ones embedded in my skin. My mind goes back to Jigsaw's words: "Fortunately the key is in a safe place. Unfortunately, the only way to find the key is to dive into your obsession."

00:45:00.

Forty-five seconds left.

My eyes scan the room rapidly. Right now everybody's screaming at me to plunge my hand into another bucket, but I don't think that's the right thing to do! Or is it? I can't tell what I'm thinking because I can't hear what I'm thinking. The noise and the pain levels are overwhelming.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see it: there's another bucket in the far corner, this one shaped like a safe!

"There better not be a f**king combination lock!" I curse. I hurl myself over to the safe, adrenaline rushing through me.

00:30:01.

No combination lock, but more needles - LOTS of them. I have to take a moment to build up my strength. If this doesn't work...

 _"Griffith, what the hell are you doing!? Get the buckets by her, not that one!"_ Jacks yells at me.

 _"SHUT UP!"_ I yell at him before plunging my arm in again.

The needles pierce my skin like the jaws of a Gila monster. I grit my teeth and struggle through the pain.

00:15:41.

I'm forced to pull my arm out for a moment before plunging it back in again. I'm so close to passing out right now that it's taking everything I have to keep going. I hear the clock tick down and start counting the seconds to try to keep myself awake.

00:05:00.

Then - something loops around my finger. I grab it tight. I haul my arm out and look at the object.

 _It's the key!_

I turn around and start running for the Iron Maiden. Abruptly my strength gives out and I crash to the floor, wallowing in agony.

 _"GRIFFITH!"_ Flo screams.

And then I see the clock.

00:00:00.

Game over.

The Iron Maiden's door swings shut. Underneath it, there's a bright flash of orange. Flames shoot up inside the Iron Maiden. Another series of screams ring out - this time they belong to Flo, who's cooking alive in the chamber. Jacks and Dina are screaming too, trying to force the glass box's door to give way so they can come to Flo's rescue. I lie on the ground and watch as the flames engulf the Iron Maiden's chamber.

I've failed.


	5. Chapter 5

My vision drifts in and out, fizzing briefly before regaining sharpness. I stare at the Iron Maiden furnace. Flo's screams have stopped, signaling that she's been consumed by the flames. There's crackling as her body is destroyed, as the flesh, muscles and guts burn away and the bones char. My attention wanders. Blood seeps from the bandages in my arm, blood from all of those ridiculously sharp needles. I can't think, can't feel anything except massive pain. I let out a moan.

I hear the door of the glass box creak open as well as a second door. Next thing I know, I'm being forced onto my back and Jacks' angry face is staring down at me.

"You had the key, you asshole!" he yells at me. "You had the f**king key and you didn't save her! What the hell is your problem?!"

Dina agrees with him. "You literally could have rescued her and you just _had_ to collapse there on the floor! Nice acting, Griffith! You just screwed us all!"

Jenny tries to pull me away, but Jacks shoves her to the ground, barks to Dina, "Hold her back!" Then he drops me back to the floor and starts screaming obscenities at me. He brings his arm back for a slap.

Before he can hit me I force myself loose and scream at him, _"If you wanted to save her then why didn't you do the trap instead!? Why'd you lock yourself in that box if you wanted to save her!? Tell me that!"  
_

"I didn't know it was like that!" Jacks responds.

 _"Bullshit!"_ I thunder. "You didn't give a damn about her! You just expect me to go through all of these things, knowing that if I do you'll survive and I won't! It doesn't work like that, Jacks!" I point towards the trap and bellow, "Jigsaw _knows_ we've done something! That's why we're here! He _knows_ we've done something wrong, something that you lot won't tell me about! We're not getting out of here until we pay for what we've done!" I pause. "These things - these things that we're seeing, that we're going through - this is all representative of the night I wound up in the hospital! Didn't you hear what Flo's tape said!?"

Jenny's timid voice speaks up. "It was something about how the farmer and his horses' deaths were torturous, just like hers would be. There was also a bit about the horses being helpless..."

"Exactly!" I continue. "We're being punished for something that we did! We're being _tested_ for that night's events! There's an opposite order for the game here! That's what the first tape said! Sooner or later, I can't do all these games myself! I have to stand by while someone else does it! Which brings me back to my original point - _if you wanted to save Flo, Jacks, then you should have done the goddamn trap yourself!_ "

My outburst has hurled some sense back into Jacks' thick skull. He stumbles and falls over, shaking. "Jeez, Griffith," he says. "What are you, friends with Jigsaw or something?"

"It might as well be like that after all the crap I've gone through," I reply sharply. "Come on. Let's keep going. There's gotta be a way out eventually."

With blood dripping down my right arm, I pull Jenny to her feet and up against my side as we walk out the next doorway, Jacks and Dina back behind us.

We're in a dimly lit, long and tiny hallway. There's a table next to it with three things on it: a camera, a flashlight, and a lighter. There's also another tape recorder next to them. As if in a trance, Jenny picks it up and presses _play_.

 _"One of these light sources will show you the right way to go, the way out of here. The other two will seal you in."  
_

The tape clicks off. That's all it'll give us this time.

"There are four of us here and three lights," Dina says. "We'll each take one." She grabs the camera.

Jacks goes for the lighter. "I've always wanted one of these things," he remarks. "I lost mine when Carson nicked it." Then he takes another look. "Wait... this _is_ mine! The hell?!"

Sure enough, his initials are at the bottom left corner of the lighter container. Jenny takes the flashlight and snaps it on. The bulb inside flickers for a few seconds and then holds strong.

Dina presses the picture button on the camera. The camera lets out a flash. Good - it works too. Jacks plays with the lighter, producing that pretty little flame the four of us know so well. Then we press on; I have the other three go in front of me, using the walls to help keep myself standing.

Then Jenny slows to a stop. "Uh-oh," she says gesturing ahead.

There are four doorways in front of us. Each of them has a symbol on the floor: one of them a flashlight, one a lighter, one a camera... and there isn't one in front of the fourth and final doorway.

"Are we supposed to go down them?" Jacks wonders aloud.

"Well there are four, and there are four of us," Jenny agrees, but she sounds hesitant. "I don't know if we should though. I don't want to make Griffith go down the blind path."

I sigh. "Jen, if it kills me then it kills me," I say. "But one of us will get out of here. That's a fact. Remember what the tape said? One of these light sources will show us the way out, while the other two will trap us. It's a risk I'm willing to take."

We each position ourselves in front of our respective door. We all look around at each other. Jenny gulps and remarks, "See you on the other side." Then, pointing the flashlight in front of her, she goes down the path alone.

Dina nods. "Here goes nothing." She raises the camera in front of her and starts taking pictures, moving slowly down the hall.

Jacks flicks on the lighter. "You know what they say - YOLO." He takes leaping strides into the dark.

I look at the corridor ahead, place one hand on each of the walls, take a deep breath, and begin slowly making my way down the dark path in front of me.

Descriptions are useless to me because I can't see anything except the walls there. I feel like I'm back in the glass coffin trap, with no idea of what lies ahead. The only thing I can do is press onwards and pray that this path leads me to something.

It isn't long before the loss of blood starts playing games with my mind. My vision dips and fizzles again before regaining focus. I stop short, realize there's a table in front of me. There's a hypodermic on it, with a caption - 'MEDICINE'. I take it, inject myself with it. I know I'm taking a risk, but at this point I need everything I've got to make it out alive. Then I continue onwards.

"I could use a sanity potion or something right now," I mutter.

I hear a grinding noise and stop where I'm at. I don't think the noise is coming from the walls, so I place both my hands on one wall and move even slower - not just because I'm scared, but I'm starting to lose my strength again. The blood from the earlier trap is soaking through my bandages, letting a gentle _drip, drip, drip_ sound play into my mind along with the grinding.

Then, in front of me, a light abruptly snaps on. I see a door slowly opening in front of me. I don't have anything to lose, so I carefully walk through it. The other side nearly makes me fall to the ground in shock - before me is a massive pit with a single board over it to cross. In the pit are rapidly turning cogwheels, much like a grinder. I know exactly what'll happen if I try crossing and I lose my balance -

"I'm falling to my death if I'm not careful here," I say to myself.

I look across to see what's on the other side, and it's a room with some televisions in them. More of Jigsaw's messages?

There's only one way to find out. Gingerly I walk over to the board and stare down at the death trap. I steel myself, and then cautiously put one foot on the board. It creaks, but does nothing. I put the second foot on and raise my arms out like I'm T-posing; I slowly begin to walk across the pit. Every footstep is made with the uttermost precaution; one screwup means certain death.

I'm so focused on the balance game that I almost miss the tape recorder dangling in front of me. I want to grab it, but something tells me otherwise, and I instead press the _play_ button to see if it'll tell me anything.

 _"Sometimes the path to riches comes with a few hurdles. It's whether you cross the hurdles that tells you the path you will take. One false step can send everything crashing down."_

I return to the balance game, still pondering the lines. The sound of the grinders gets louder and louder. Then I hear a clanking noise - like something breaking. I risk a look behind me.

The gears are rushing so fast that they're starting to give way. I see one go flying and realize I'm in big danger. I turn back to the game and start moving quicker and quicker, trying to reach the end before the board breaks.

I reach the edge of the board just as the gears go flying up into the air. Three smash the far end of the board - I hear it - and I dive for the other side as the board starts to fall from under my feet. I'm so close to screaming; my arm hurts so bad.

I hit the floor and roll several times, watching as the gears continue to go flying. I've landed on my bleeding arm; blood splatters all over it and my chest. I want to try and mend it but there's no time to stick around; sooner or later one of these gears will hit me and then I'm in trouble! I scramble to my feet and bolt like a maniac for the room with the televisions.

Something smashes against my leg and I fall to the ground, blood splattering all over my calf. I manage to look down and it's all I can do not to pass out. I crack on not screaming and let a bloodcurdler fly. Something's torn a gash in my calf; blood runs down the back of my ankle like it's the Phlegethon. I feel my strength draining inside me. I want to lie down and just rest, but I can't stay here any longer. Staying in this room is a death sentence. Resisting the urge to collapse, I force myself to my feet and lunge for the television room.

The room behind me is collapsing as I rush. Gears whiz by my body as I race for the door...

A door slams shut behind me the second I enter that room. The televisions snap on, revealing all of the traps I'd been in so far and the corpses of the ones who have suffered.

 _"Should murder in self-defense be considered a safe diversion from justice?"_

I stand there for a few moments, thinking about these words. Then - my vision suddenly drops. I feel my head sinking forwards until it hits the floor.

I've passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

"Take it easy, Jacks! Please!"

"Stop!" "Watch out!" "Slow down!"

"I'm sorry!"

*squeal* *crunch*

 _"AAAAAAAAAGH!"_

My eyes snap open and my breathing is fast and panicked. I'm covered in sweat and lying face-down on the floor in the dark. It takes me a moment to remember where I am; the static of the televisions helps me out in this. I look around in the dim light, hoping to see something familiar before I move. I look down at my arms and realize my bandages have been changed. Someone's tended to my wounds, and the pain is gone too.

I reach back and feel my calf where the blood was seeping. It's also bandaged, and I can feel stitches - or are those staples? - underneath them. There's actually a double-layer of bandages where the slash was. I look back over at the televisions and just see blurry screens; I look towards the far side and see another door. Dazed, I fight to get to my feet and stumble through it.

Immediately I can tell that I've reached the end of the path. I'm in another room, one with one big door in front of me and three other doors next to where I entered. There's another glass box on the far side and another trap in the center. What the trap is - I'm not sure. It seems like it's another trap like Flo's, but it's surrounded by black cloths - cloths that are usually used by the hospital people in the case of a severe concussion. I know this because I remember waking up surrounded by black cloths and being told quietly by the doctor that I had one.

Footsteps. I look over towards the doorways and see Jenny stumble through the far door. She looks over at me, mouths my name, and then rushes my direction. She throws her arms around me. She's covered in scratches and cuts; I can see little bloodstains on her shirt and her legs. I don't bother asking what happened to her; we've both gone through hell just to get this far.

"You okay, Jenny?" I say hoarsely.

Jenny nods, her head buried in my shoulder. "I really wish I didn't leave you alone," she whimpers. "It was a room full of pillars, but I couldn't touch them - they were covered in sharp razors!"

That explains why she's so cut up. I pat her back as she releases her grip. "At least you had that. I had to cross a pit full of spinning blades, and I got slashed on the calf," I tell her.

"But why do you have new bandages?" Jenny asks. "Where's the blood from the needles? And if your calf got slashed..."

"I don't know," I reply softly. "I passed out after escaping that room. When I woke up I was like this." I look back at the door I came through. "I'd like to thank whoever it was that kindly healed me up, except for all I know it's probably Jigsaw or one of his lackeys."

More footsteps. Dina bursts through the next passageway, her camera a small pile of plastic. She looks up at us and sighs with relief. "Okay, that's over," she says. "Thank god I've found you two!" She starts to come over to us, then pauses and throws the camera pieces to the other side of the room before spotting the black cloths hanging from the ceiling. "Oh no. That's not another trap, is it?"

"No idea, Dina," Jenny says nervously. "What happened to you?"

Dina brushes a few locks of hair out of her face. "I wound up in a room with glass on the floor - of course my feet are bare! Then the floor went out from under me; I barely made it to the other side! What about you two?"

We fill her in on what happened to us. Dina winces when I tell her I passed out. "That's ugly. But it doesn't explain who changed your bandages," she notes.

I shrug. "I'd like to thank them, whoever they are."

Then Jenny pipes up again. "Where's Jacks?"

"Hang on - here he comes." I gesture towards the last hallway.

A moment later, panting and out of breath, Jacks stumbles through the doorway. The moment he does all of the doors clang shut behind us. Jacks is bent over, gasping for air. "I was in a maze of nail bombs!" he gasps. "Lost the lighter trying to get out!" As he stands back up he notices the black cloths. "Not again. Not another one! _Not another one!_ " he yells, grabbing at his head. "I am _not_ doing this any more!"

"You never _did_ any of it," I grumble under my breath.

Jenny tries to hug me again; I push her away. Before I know what's going on, Jacks shoves me to the ground again and practically drags Dina and Jenny towards the box. Jenny's fighting this time; she doesn't want me to do the next trap. She shoves Jacks several times; Jacks only tightens his grip. I rush to try and help her; I'm thrown backwards again as Jacks pushes both ladies into the room before grabbing the door and slamming it shut behind him.

I hear the curtains being lifted away from the trap as I stand up. I turn around and my head spins with the sight.

The trap in question is in the form of a cross. This cross is covered in machinery, making it seem like it will tear someone's limbs off. Imprisoned on the cross is our other friend, Carson. The last of our friends that I've spoken to since the accident is in this trap. What's worse, he's awake and he's gagged. He looks over towards us and screams our names into his gag, struggling fruitlessly in his restraints.

"Oh my god. Carson!" Jacks cries. He starts trying to wrest the door open but has to give up; the door won't budge.

 _"Hello Carson. From the time you entered college you decided it wasn't right, that your life wasn't right. Hence, you started your life of crime. You'd stolen a few items from the farmer in the past, from the family that died in the wreck, because you wanted to buy your friends drugs. Death is never funny, Carson. To cut someone off from aid when they are dying - is that a decision for you to make? To decide whether someone lives or dies - does that make you a god?  
_

 _"The device you are in is designed to deliver liquids. Admittedly, you are posed in a way that any liquid delivered will do nothing. But it will be enough for the tube of acid just behind your neck to end you like those you hurt. The only way to be free is to beg those you hurt to help you. Should your friend not free you in time, the acid will ultimately be your final resting place. Oh, and one other thing - best not to struggle."_

Carson screams some more. I want to rip the gag off of him, but I decide against it. I don't want to know what sets this trap off. Besides, Jigsaw's not done.

 _"Blackened minds know their sins. Drunken minds care less. But would that be considered an excuse if someone dies at your hands? Let's see if that remains the case. The clock is ticking."  
_

A clock starts ticking down from 2:00:00. I examine the trap quickly, looking mainly at Carson's bonds. He's locked in tight, with a combination that's connected to all four of them placed in front of his chest. Each of the bonds has a number and a word next to it:

4) Horses

1) People

2) Vehicles

3) Lives.

I start talking to him, trying to calm him down but also trying to get information from him. "Carson, listen to me, bud," I say.

Carson screams again and begins struggling against his restraints. I hear a loud _beep-beep-beep!_ coming from the timer, and I look at it.

The clock has jumped from 1:49:31 to 1:20:00! Every time he struggles he loses time!

"Carson, don't struggle! I just lost twenty seconds!" I tell him urgently. "If you keep struggling I can't help you!"

But Carson doesn't listen to me. He screams and struggles again.

 _Beep-beep-beep!_ 1:14:89 to 00:56:00!

Now Jacks notices I'm in trouble and to his credit he tries to help me. "Carson, stop! You can't struggle or you'll die! You've already lost a minute of your time! Let Griffith do his thing!" he yells. "Goddamn you, Jigsaw!" He bangs against the door wildly, trying to force it to open.

I attempt again to calm Carson down. But at this point his struggling is costing us big. I'm down to 00:45:00 on the clock. Unless I can pull something out of my ass here, Carson's a dead man!

Thinking wildly, I look around at the walls and notice something above the doors. The numbers 7, 12, 5, and 2, all of them painted in bright red paint, stare back at me. My eyes widen as I realize what this combination is supposed to mean. The numbers above the door are the numbers of possible victims and things destroyed, including lives. I start punching in numbers. Then I stop and look back at the codes and then the numbers again.

I reach for the combination. I'm pretty sure I have it worked out.

Carson struggles again, screaming frantically.

 _Beep-beep-beep!_ 00:30:00 to 00:10:00!

 _"Carson, stop struggling!"_ I scream, trying to stop his struggling so I can punch in the code.

But he doesn't listen. He struggles again. This time, the timer stays put.

5... 4... 3...

I plug in 5, 7, 12, 2. I'm sure it's the right code.

The little light above the thing goes green. I've cracked it!

Then another panel falls open with another series of codes. It hits me like a bucket of ice cold water: _I've only cracked one part of it!_ In a panic I look at the clock.

00:00:00.

Game over.

I jump backwards as acid begins to flow down the tube onto the back of his neck. Carson screams wildly, the pain agonizing as his skin sloughs away from his body. Blood gushes out from his back as he screams. Other liquids come pouring out his back, down his legs, down through his T-shirt. His screams slow as his organs come loose and start sliding out from his torso. His waist dissolves and snaps off, hitting the ground and revealing his disintegrating intestines. His head hangs limp as his lifeless corpse dangles before our eyes. His stomach and parts of his lungs flop off from the respiratory tract and the esophagus, leaving them dripping down onto the remains. The acid and blood flows down the drain underneath the cross, a greatly disgusting mess. I want to throw up. It takes everything I've got not to.

The door to the glass box and the next room opens up. Jacks, Dina and Jenny stumble out, shaking. Jacks starts to say something to me; I snap, "If you're blaming me for this one, forget it!"

"I wasn't going to!" Jacks says. "It was his own fault that he died, and good riddance! Just worthless! The only thing he was ever useful for was getting booze and drugs for free!"

 _"What?!"_ I say, surprised by this comment. "What do you mean by that?!"

"Why should you care?!" Jacks snarls. "Why should you care?! You don't remember any of it, and you're better off not! I don't know _why_ you weren't arrested!"

"Arrested?" I demand. The word's piqued my interest. "Arrested for what?!"

"Forget about it!" Jacks yells. "Just f***ing forget about it!"

I don't try to press him for more. If I try, he'll probably beat whatever life I have left out of me. I sit on the ground and think quietly about everything else that's happened to me. Then I hear more voices - and they're not my friends.

 _"What do you mean, we can't talk to him?!"_

 _"I'm afraid the patient is unconscious and will be unable to respond to your questions. He also has a severe concussion that requires very little brain stimuli to recover."_

 _"Then he should be awake and ready to tell us everything, shouldn't he!?"_

 _"I don't think you understood my point. His concussion is severe. If we were to stimulate his brain nodules, there is a strong chance that he will not recover but pass away. I believe I also said that he is -"_

 _"Do we look like we give a damn?! We have a fatal accident here that cost the lives of five people, and all those who were in the truck that caused the accident were saying he's the driver! He's got some things he needs to tell us!"_

 _"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave!"_

 _"Get out of my way!"_

 _"No! Security!"_

 _Scuffling noises, and a bang. Then the curtain of black is ripped off my eyes and a mean-looking face wrapped in a fierce snarl stares down at me. "What have you got to say for yourself, boy!?" he demands. "You were behind the wheel! Now tell me what you did!"_

 _My first instinct is to scream. "AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"_

"Griffith? Griffith, are you okay!?"

It's Jenny. She's sitting at my side, trying to keep me calm. I realize I've buried my head in my arms and I'm rocking back and forth on the ground. Tears are dripping from my eyes as the violent voices of the past echo through my head for a second time. Then I realize that I _have_ screamed. That's why Jenny's over here.

I look at her, shaking like a leaf. Jenny notices I'm crying and asks, "Are you all right? What happened? You just collapsed and let out a yell."

"I don't know," I stammer, standing up. "I don't know anything any more."

It's a little white lie I have to tell. I can't let on that I know more than they think... or at least I think I know more than they think. My memory is returning with each trap, and it hurts.

"Are you two coming?!" Dina calls to us. She's standing at the next doorway, waiting for us.

We continue onwards, me holding on to Jenny instead of the other way around.


	7. Chapter 7

As we walk onwards, the darkness seems to swallow us whole, devouring whatever sanity we have left. My hope is fading that we'll make it out alive. Sooner or later, somebody's going to die. Who's first? Who knows, but I find myself starting to wish that I had died in that wreck so I wouldn't have to go through this. Wait - what am I, sick or something? I hit my head with my palm to snap out of these thoughts.

Up ahead another spotlight snaps on, revealing a tape recorder sitting on a small table - and a bat underneath. Like clockwork, Jacks reaches for the tape, picks it up, presses play.

 _"So you still remain true to the fact that neither of you have committed a crime. You claim to be innocent and blame another for your wrongdoings. Now the innocent must proceed forward, but who is, in fact, innocent and who is guilty? What is the story you have tried so desperately to hide? How much further will you go to hide it?"_

The tape clicks off. We all just stand there and look at each other, not sure what he meant.

It's Jacks who notices the doorway and the words above it. "Up there," he says, pointing to the door frame. "There's something up there."

As if on cue, a light snaps on pointing at the door. In bright red letters are the words "The story must be told and someone must stay. Guilty or innocent."

I'm trying to make sense of it all when I realize there's another problem: the baseball bat under the table is gone. I look around for it, worried; then I notice Jacks has it in his hands. He's looking at me, incensed, before he looks at Jenny and holds it up. It then hits me what he's about to do.

"Jacks," I say in a low voice, "don't do it. It's not worth killing another life. Let's just get out of here in one piece."

Jenny backs up fearfully until she hits a corner. Jacks looks at her and then at me. "Which one?" he says aloud. "Which one is more guilty?"

"Neither of us are guilty, Jacks," I say. "Jenny can't drive yet. I was in the hospital -"

"F**k the bloody hospital!" Jacks snarls. "It's either you or her, Griffith! Dina and I have nothing to do with this sh*t! Survival of the fittest! That's what this is all about! Those who aren't fit enough die!"

"That doesn't mean we should be murdered right and left," I reply, trying to soothe the wild beast.

For a moment there is silence. Then Jacks holds up the bat. "You know what?" he says, eyeballing me. "I'm sick of you questioning our motives and demanding answers. I've had it with you, Griffith." He starts walking towards me. "You could have saved our friends, and you chose not to deliberately. You chose to let them all die in the traps."

"Jacks, you know that some of those were out of my control," I say. "If Carson hadn't struggled, I'd have saved him!"

But he doesn't listen. Before I know what's happening he's taken a swing at me. I fall to the ground, briefly stunned; as I try to get back up again Jacks slams the bat against my legs, forcing me back down.

"You've had it coming for a long time, Griffith!" Jacks snarls, lifting the bat up again.

I raise my arm to block the hit, but the bat smashes right through it and smacks my neck. I let out a wild scream, realizing my arm might have been broken by the blow.

"Useless piece of sh*t!" Jacks continues, continuing to strike blow after blow to my weakened body.

"Who went through all your tests?!" I yell at him. "Who put themselves through agony to attempt rescuing your friends?! You sure as hell didn't!"

The bat smacks against my helmet, stunning me and forcing me backwards. Jacks' angry shouts don't register as he beats me to near-unconsciousness. Then I hear the sound of bandages ripping. There must have been some sort of knife also there on the table - either that or it's Jacks' own knife. I don't know.

It doesn't take long before my vision starts to fade. There's a long slash on my torso and a couple on my arms from trying to defend myself. My legs have a few too, but not as deep as that chest one. Blood gushes from my bandages as I lie there on the floor. I'm bleeding to death for the second time tonight. I'm not getting out of this one alive. But maybe death would be better than this...

My mind's going. I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts. But I can't think straight. The bat cracks down on my body again; I think something's ruptured.

Then, from the far side of the hallway, something shadowy appears. I hear Jacks drop the bat and take off. Dina and Jenny are right behind him.

The figure approaches me. I moan quietly, "Help... me..."

I hear the clunk of my head as it hits the floor. I've fallen unconscious.

* * *

 _"What do you have to say for yourself?!"_

 _"AAAAAAAAGH!"_

Just as quickly as I fall unconscious, so am I fast to wake up. My vision is blurry at first, and I can't see anything. Then, slowly and steadily, the world comes back into focus. I don't understand where I am.

I look around at my surroundings and notice that I'm lying on what seems to be a surgical bench with the medical helmet off and a fresh one sitting next to it. My head is lying on a soft pillow and I can feel stitches and staples stuck on my skull. My bandages, bloody from the vicious beating, have been changed again to reflect sweet new ones; I can see a rumpled red and white heap on the far side of the room. I notice that the tan pair of pants I was wearing and the shoes and socks I was wearing are gone. What's more, someone's standing over me with a needle and thread, sewing up my chest wound.

I swallow nervously as I see who it is. The person in question is wearing a mask much like that I saw when I was abducted from the hospital: a pig mask with a black wig. He's also wearing a bright red cloak and long, thin black gloves as he works. He looks over at me briefly, sees that I'm awake; I wonder what the expression is on his face. Is he happy? Is he angry? I don't know. I watch him turn another direction and wave at someone hiding in the shadows before he goes back to sewing me up. I'm too weak and too scared to react. What the hell is going on?

Someone else comes over towards us and stands over close to my head. I look at him and see a wrinkled old face surrounded by a thick black cloak with a red line around the rim. The man's mouth opens and he speaks in a soft, whispery voice, like he too is somewhat weak. "Hello, Griffith. I was wondering when you would wake up."

It hits me who this guy is: _it's Jigsaw and one of his lackeys! They've got me!_

"Let me go!" I stammer, but my voice is so weak it sounds like I'm nearly mute.

"Relax." Jigsaw takes a washcloth from a nearby pan and places it on my forehead. "It would be foolish to release you when you're too injured to go anywhere." He pauses while dabbing at my face; I feel the water trickling down slowly. "If anything, it would be too cruel to abandon you a second time."

"Abandon me?" Now I'm confused.

"In the room of gears, when you passed out the first time," Jigsaw replies. "I had my assistant patch you up. When we saw the assault happen I sent him to get you." He sets the cloth down and picks up the helmet. "Your friend misunderstood my words. I was referencing what came out in the newspaper about the incidents." He then places the helmet back over my head. I notice it's a falcon-like helmet, much like my old one. I relax, but only for a minute.

I realize there's something crumpled up in my hand. I want to look at it, but I can't; I'm too weak to even hold it up.

Jigsaw's expression doesn't change as he snaps the helmet's catches. "Your friends think it's nice to blame the one person who had nothing to do with it," he says. When he sees I'm still confused, he asks, "You haven't read the article you pulled off the wall yet, have you?"

I shake my head slowly. Jigsaw takes the crumpled piece of paper out of my hand and holds it up in front of me.

 **A Night of Unimaginable Horror,** the article reads. **At one in the morning, a massive barn fire broke out on Clover Lane. Firefighters responded to find the farmer, 38-year-old Ben Gully, dead inside with severe third-degree burns. He appears to have died of smoke inhalation. Also in the barn were Mr. Gully's five horses, who perished alongside him. It is thought that Mr. Gully was trying to save his horses when he was overwhelmed by the fire. The horses were unable to escape, resulting in their deaths. There is a strong suspicion that the fire was arson.**

 **Also that night a massive accident occurred further down Clover Lane, about twenty miles away from the barn fire. The vehicles in the crash were a black pickup truck and a silver minivan. There were six victims and five fatalities in total. The fatalities were passengers of the minivan: Mr. Jack Li, his wife Rae, their two children James and Lily, and their dog Brutus. The last victim, a passenger from the pickup truck, was launched from the pickup's bed upon impact. He was found partially on the road and off of it, sustaining major injuries. He is currently in the hospital suffering from multiple broken bones, severe head trauma and is at the moment unconscious. He has yet to be identified. If anyone has any information please call your local sheriff's department.**

I'm shocked. I don't know what to think. I remember the car accident, but not the barn fire.

Jigsaw sets that one aside before holding up a second piece of paper. "I have a friend out there who was kind enough to pass me this information," he says. "I think you should have a look. It will explain why they elected to use you as their sacrificial lamb through their tests." He frees my arm so I can hold it myself, though he still keeps it steady for me.

 **More Questions than Answers: Police this morning spoke to the passengers in the pickup truck to see if they could learn anything from the accidents that cost ten victims their lives last Sunday night. All five individuals pointed towards their last friend, the driver of the vehicle, as the cause of the accidents. Saturday's fire...** (my vision swims briefly, meaning I end up jumping a bit) **...believed to be arson and murder; Mr. Gully's five horses were discovered to have been doped with heavy doses of a local tranquilizer, and the fire was started by what was initially believed to be a lit cigarette on the roof, but now has been confirmed to be a lit match rather than a cigarette. A pipe was discovered among the ashes; the owner remains unknown.  
**

 **The driver, currently in the hospital, has been identified, but doctors have requested not to release his name until he has woken up. Police are waiting to question him. In other developments...**

My heart sinks. My friends aren't my friends at all. They've blamed me for everything when in reality I had nothing to do with any of it!

Tears start leaking from my eyes. I'm so ashamed and shocked that I've started crying - right in front of the person who's been putting me through these tests. This entire time I've been used as the goat, the one person who was injured from the car accident yet still survived... and then blamed for everything.

I don't know how long I cry for. I almost start begging for death at this point, mainly because I can't go through the blame game any more. Jigsaw and his assistant don't leave my side. In the time that I cry, the assistant finishes sewing up my chest and starts bandaging it over again. Jigsaw doesn't move aside from gently patting my head or my shoulder.

"It all comes back now, doesn't it?" Jigsaw asks.

I nod. My head stings as the hospital comes rushing back at me...


	8. Chapter 8

_A month ago._

 _A single trail of smoke curls up from a hole in the roof of a barn. It's from a cigarette, one that's been freshly lit. The barn has horses on the ground floor and hay as well; the horses are a variety of ages, young to old, newborn to aged. They're all thoroughbreds too, so they're pretty valuable. There are also scattered, empty beer bottles on the floor - one or two have a little liquor left in them - and as the horses stand in their stalls another bottle comes flying down from the loft, where the majority of the hay is stored. The hay is drenched in liquid, making it toxic for the horses - and not just alcohol. The fumes are so stinky that it's a relief the barn is outside. But the danger is still there.  
_

 _Voices follow, drunken voices, all of them discussing what to do next in the nighttime. Some are up for cruising the streets, some are up for grabbing more booze, some just don't care. Among them I sit, listening to the conversation they're having. I watch as Carson takes another puff of his cigarette. Flo's filling a needle for a hit of heroin while Jacks and Dina are drinking beers. Jenny's having a small 'sip' of alcohol, even though it's her third one tonight. My hands are bare; I'm not having anything. Someone has to be the sober voice of reason here. Besides, if they get behind the wheel there's no way we're getting home safely. I have to ensure that I'm their driver. If any of them get behind the wheel... I shake my head. I don't want to think about it.  
_

 _The barn door opens and all talk stops. We peer over the edge of the loft and look down. It's the barn's owner, in to feed his horses most likely or to check up on them. He walks over and closes the door before heading towards his first thoroughbred. One of my colleagues snickers, but we all quietly climb out onto the roof and sit down to continue. Becca's too busy flirting with Carson to notice her cigarette's dumping ashes on the roof, some that are still faintly glowing embers.  
_

 _Then we're spotted by the barn owner. He yells at us angrily, says he's got his shotgun with him and he'll shoot us dead. Jacks throws a beer bottle through the hole in the roof; I hear a thunk! as it hits something, a pffffff! as something falls to the ground. We abandon our things, jump off the roof and take off for our truck hidden in the nearby woods. I look backwards at the barn and see a pretty little orange glow on the rooftop. The barn's been set alight! The farmer's trapped inside along with his horses!  
_

 _I yell this fact to my colleagues, but they all yell at me to go with them. I want to help the farmer, but I'm forced to tear away. I hear the panicked whinnies of the thoroughbreds as they cry for help, cry for someone to come and help them. I start to turn back; someone grabs my arm and practically throws me at the pickup. I can't help them. I have to go.  
_

 _We all pile in, but it's then that I notice Jacks is at the wheel. He slams his feet down on the gas, but there's one problem: I'm not in the pickup! Someone had shoved me out in her haste to get in! I'm trying again as he slams down on the gas, leaving me stuck in the pickup's bed and with no way to get inside safely!  
_

 _I go careening into the tailgate, whacking my head good, and scream at Jacks to stop the truck and let me get inside. But my friends are too drunk to listen to me. Jenny realizes I'm stuck back there and tries to wrench the wheel away from Jacks or get the keys, anything to get him to slow down. It's a big mistake. Jacks knocks her into the backseat while Dina climbs into the front. I watch in the pickup bed as Jenny looks at me, mouths "I'm so sorry!" and then quickly fastens a seat belt over herself. I bang on the window frantically, trying to get her to let me in. She doesn't move towards me, just sits there with her eyes closed and braced for trouble.  
_

 _As we travel down the road Jacks continues to accelerate like crazy, causing the pickup to nearly go out of control. I huddle as best as I can in the back; I'm so terrified I can't think straight. I scream again for Jacks to slow down, practically begging by this point. Does he listen? Nope. Instead he speeds up. We must be going at least seventy, maybe eighty miles an hour. One false move and we're going to wreck._

 _A blur of headlights flashes by us as we roar towards town. The next thing I know, Jacks is swerving across the road like a sort of figure skater or something stupid like that. He's also laying on the horn at anything and everything that comes our direction. As I slide back and forth across the pickup's bed I think to myself, 'It's a miracle we haven't hit something yet!' I've probably jinxed us now that I've thought that.  
_

 _ _ _Out of all of us, I think Jacks is the drunkest. He doesn't listen to us and pushes onward; maybe his drunken mind is making him think he's in a racecar or something like that.__ Another blur of headlights comes towards us. We're on the wrong side of the road as it does. Jacks continues to floor it, but now everyone is screaming at him to watch out! Stop! Slow down!_

 _Abruptly there's a loud crashing sound. Before I know what's happening, I'm catapulted out of the truck's bed and land on... I don't know if it's the road or the grass on the sides of the road or the vehicle we hit or the pickup itself. I'm tossed around like a rag-doll in seconds that mean life and death. My vision cuts out upon landing the first time.  
_

 _They then open wearily. I feel pain all over, a sharp, pulsing pain. Blood pools around my stomach and head; some drips out my nose. My vision is fuzzy, but I can make out a few objects: a roaring fire coming from two smashed cars. Someone stuck inside one of the cars. Objects walking away - unharmed, it looks like. I hear someone calling 911 on the phone, but I can't make out who it is. I struggle to keep myself awake, let out a little moan... it doesn't help. My strength drains and I fall unconscious.  
_

 _I wake up in blackness. There's something in my arm - some sort of drip. I hear someone speaking softly. For a moment I wonder if I am dead.  
_

* * *

 _It's been a while since I woke up. Since then I've deduced that I'm lying in a black room - well it seems like a black room but I'm really covered in black sheets. The hospital room is completely silent. I run what I've been told in my head: I have a pretty bad concussion and that any stimulation might make it worse - hence the fact that I am 'unconscious'. My body has bones broken in several places. I've gone through a five-hour surgery just to stabilize me. My bones are supported by metal plates - like Wolverine with his adimantium claws. It's actually pretty cool. I'm being fed by a machine, so I don't have to worry about food. I don't know what else the hospital staff have placed on or inside me... I don't really want to know anyway.  
_

 _I'm about to drift off to sleep for what feels like the twelfth time that day - either that or I'm in a sort of crazy limbo state. Then I hear voices, causing me to wake up. One's the hospital attendant, but I don't recognize the others. One thing's for sure: they sound nasty.  
_

 _"What do you mean, we can't talk to him?!"_

 _"I'm afraid the patient is unconscious and will be unable to respond to your questions. He also has a severe concussion that requires very little brain stimuli to recover."_

 _"Then he should be awake and ready to tell us everything, shouldn't he!?"_

 _"I don't think you understood my point. His concussion is severe. If we were to stimulate his brain nodules, there is a strong chance that he will not recover but pass away. I believe I also said that he is -"_

 _"Do we look like we give a damn?! We have a fatal accident here that cost the lives of five people, and all those who were in the truck that caused the accident were saying he's the driver! He's got some things he needs to tell us, and he has to tell us these things now!"  
_

 _"I'm afraid I must ask you to leave! You are disrupting our other patients!"  
_

 _"And I have an investigation to conduct, you son of a b*tch! Get out of my way!"_

 _Scuffling noises._

 _"No! You're not allowed in! Security!"_

 _More scuffling noises, and a bang. Then the curtain of black is ripped off my eyes and a mean-looking face wrapped in a fierce snarl stares down at me. "What have you got to say for yourself, boy!?" he demands. "You were behind the wheel! Now tell me what you did!"_

 _I don't react. I can only stare, wide-eyed, at this person yelling at me. A second person appears behind him, almost grabbing the bed and shaking it violently before stopping, remembering I'm hurt. The other man doesn't care. He barks to his partner, "Keep them back!" Then he turns his attention back to me. "Well, boy?!" he spits. "Talk to me! You were behind the wheel of the truck when it hit that van! You were the ringleader of it all! The accident, the barn fire - everything! Talk!"_

 _I still don't react. I don't know_ _ **how**_ _to react. My brain is firing all over the place, and it doesn't help that I have a concussion. I just lie there like a corpse, devoid of anything.  
_

 _The man grabs my chest and violently shakes me, causing me to bang my head on the pillow and the metal bars surrounding the bed. "Come on, boy! Talk!" he barks again. "If you don't talk I shall charge you with nine counts of first-degree murder!"_

 _Even though he's got a strong grip on me, I_ _**still**_ _don't react. I can't think about a reaction - I feel like I'm falling down, down, down through a wormhole of time or something like that. I'm floating. I'm dizzy. I'm going to pass out. I don't know. All my systems are firing at once. Am I overloading?  
_

 _My surroundings go black as I fall back on the bed. I feel like my body has been set alight; that's how fast my nerves are firing. I hear more scuffling noises - hospital security must have arrived. The two men are seized and from what I hear, they're forced to leave. Then the man yells one last time, "You've had this coming, boy! When we get back here you won't stand a chance in court! I'll see you straight to the executioner's room! You're not getting away with this, boy! Not if I have anything to do with it!"_

 _My brain finally lands on a suitable signal and fires it with everything it's got:_

 _I scream, writhe, twist around wildly. I'm being possessed.  
_

* * *

 _It's been almost a month since the accident. I don't remember any of it. My mind's a blur. My concussion is leaving, thankfully, which is good. It turns out it was a milder one, but they knew I'd been through severe trauma and didn't want to make it worse, so they told me a little white lie to keep those vicious people off of me. My body is bandaged up heavily, and I'm wearing a helmet to protect my head and face. It looks like a falcon's beak in the front._

 _I'm lying in bed again. I've just come back from a session of therapy and it's lights-out over here. I'm glad to be lying down. I'm also glad that those two men haven't come back or that I haven't seen a newspaper. At the moment I have to focus on taking care of my working clothes - i.e. the pair of cargo pants I'm wearing as well as the socks and slippers._

 _I'm about to start undressing when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. The next thing I know, someone's rushing towards me and jabbing a needle into my arm..._


	9. Chapter 9

Slowly my vision returns. I'm back in Jigsaw's lair again, with the soft warm light shining down on me, with the articles of newspaper still in my hands, with both Jigsaw and his lackey standing over me. I feel paralyzed with fright, with realization: I am a martyr, an unwilling one. I was sacrificed so that others could survive, so that others could live while I went down for everything. Justice wouldn't have been served. The guilty would have gotten away with murder. But I know the truth now, the truth that was hidden amongst the lies. The lies have to end. The guilty have to pay.

Steadily I realize now that I'm sitting in a wheelchair with my hands clasped together. I've been tied in (probably so I can't move or go anywhere). My first response is fear, but I don't feel any. Instead I feel a weird calming sensation. I don't understand why I feel this way. I just know I do.

I notice there's a plate of cheese and crackers in front of me, along with a glass of water. I also notice that Jigsaw is sitting across from me, quietly staring at me.

"You remember everything," Jigsaw says, his voice soft and relaxing.

"Yes," I say in response, almost trancelike. I remember it all.

Jigsaw stands up. "You remember the crash, the fire that started, the unlawful interrogation and your reaction," he says. "If I'm correct, you also remember being kidnapped."

I hesitate with my next question. "What happens to me now?"

"How do you mean?" Jigsaw asks.

I look at him. "If I go back to the world, they'll arrest me for murdering all those people and those animals when I know I didn't do it, when the evidence shows that I didn't do it, but nobody believes me for not doing it because they'll all believe the ones who walked away unharmed. That's the story that's been put out there, so that'll be the one that's believed."

"That might occur, yes," Jigsaw agrees, walking a short distance away. "However, there are other options."

"Other options? Like what?" I try to get up but remember I'm fastened in, so I just sit there and look at him.

"Stay down here," Jigsaw says.

Now I'm slightly outraged. "Are you crazy!? After all you put me through?! There's no way I can do that!"

"Let me finish, Griffith." Jigsaw turns back around and comes back over to me. "Stay down in hiding until you've recovered fully, and then make your way to another area. I can easily create the impression that you are dead yourself, out of a need for vengeance for the others."

I look at him in the eye, my anger fading away to confusion. "You can do that?"

Jigsaw nods. "My assistant has access to a number of the tools needed in order to pull this off."

I look down at the floor. "What's the other option?"

"My assistant also has access to the media," Jigsaw says. "We could get your side of the story out there, start the train of belief all over again." A noise makes him look away. "Ah. It appears he's back."

Pighead reappears from another corner. He's carrying a newspaper with a big bold headline. I can make out little parts of it.

Pighead walks over to me and passes me the newspaper. He points to the main headline and gestures towards me - I think he's trying to tell me to read it. So I do.

 **Kidnapped in the Dead of Night!** the article starts. **The suspects of last month's murders have all gone missing in a single night. The suspect from the hospital was abducted right out of his bed; hospital staff are desperate to know if he is okay. He is still undergoing mental therapy. The other suspects - Jacks Franz, Rebecca 'Becca' Lewis, Flora 'Flo' Davies, Carson Woltz, Dina Hancock and Jennifer 'Jenny' Kinkle - were all taken from their homes. Also missing is Detective Troy Franz, the man in charge of the case against the unnamed suspect. It is believed that they have been kidnapped by the relatives and friends of deceased farmer Ben Gully and the relatives of the Li family. It is also believed that they have all been kidnapped by the Jigsaw killer.** (There's some more information about the fire and the car accident, so I jump ahead to the rest) **The families of the suspects are desperate for news. If anybody has any information, please notify the local police department.**

"The others are still waiting."

Jigsaw's voice brings me back out of my trancelike state. "We need to figure out what to do."

It takes me a few minutes to think about this decision. "I need to get my story out there. It's my only chance. Do you have a tape recorder?" I ask.

Pighead kindly passes me one.

For the next twenty minutes or so, I record the entirety of what I remember. All names, all faces - even the ones I don't know. I don't tell the part about how the hospital staff told me a little white lie about my concussion; I don't want them in trouble. I do mention the glass coffin trap and that I'm all right and looking for a way out; I also mention my so-called 'friends' and that they're stuck down here as well, only they're not as lucky (so far as I know), and that I'm currently separated from them. Then I sign it off and give it back to Pighead.

Talking about it all has caused something to build up inside me. It's not hatred - well, it is hatred, but it's not the kind most people would think about. It's more than anger. It's more than plain revenge. It's - it's _vengeance._

"Where are the others?" I ask. I'm looking directly at Jigsaw as I say this. "Where are they?"

"At the moment they've fallen asleep," Jigsaw says. He gestures towards Pighead, who takes the handles of the wheelchair and wheels me over to a set of screens. I look at them and see that Jenny, Jacks and Dina are lying in a small room, all fast asleep. I'm looking at them and I feel extreme hatred towards all of them. I'm so angry at what they've done to me that I don't care what happens to me. I want them to die. I've stopped caring about them now. Justice must be served.

"They don't deserve to live," I say aloud. I can't believe I'm saying it, but I am. "They don't. They took all those lives and ruined mine, would have sacrificed mine to save themselves." I pause and add, "Is this what our test is all about? Preserving each others' lives?"

"No," Jigsaw corrects gently. "Their test was to see if they could set aside themselves and work to leave as a group, instead of forcing one to take the blame for everything. Yours was the survival instinct: could you find out what happened and act accordingly?" He pats my shoulder. "You have. You've passed your test. They haven't.

"Blackened minds know their sins. Drunken minds couldn't care less. They all thought that they were the innocent and you were the guilty, merely because they kept running away from their own guilt. But they know what they've done. It won't help them any more." He looks away for a moment. "They aren't the only one going through tests." He points towards another screen.

I see a man standing there, a man I shakily recognize as the man who forcefully interrogated me while I was in the hospital. He's stuck in a room and he has a weird-looking trap on his head and neck. He's lying like a corpse on the floor, a clear sign he hadn't woken up yet.

"That," Jigsaw says, "is Jacks' father, Detective Troy Franz."

"What's that around his neck?" I'm intrigued by this trap. I don't know why I am; I just am.

"A prototype for later tests," Jigsaw replies. "You're a part of his test as well. Because he tormented you, he has to ask you to help him. It's your choice so as to whether you do or don't."

"What do I have to do?" I'm hesitant again. I don't know what he'll be asking of me. I'm not sure I can even _walk_ at this point.

Jigsaw grins. "That's on the tape." He gestures again to Pighead, who takes the wheelchair handles again. "My assistant will be taking you down there. It won't be long before Detective Franz wakes up. After he's done so, he will see you. Don't panic, Griffith. Remember, it's your decision so as to whether you will help him or not."

We're about to leave the room when I say, "Jigsaw..."

Pighead stops the wheelchair and I look back at him. "It's different now, isn't it? I have the option now. I'm not being forced, am I?"

Jigsaw has his back to me, and it stays that way as he talks. "That, Griffith, is entirely up to you."

I'm still looking at him as Pighead wheels me out of the room.


	10. Chapter 10

For several long minutes, we travel in darkness, with Pighead pushing me as I sit there in my wheelchair. We move up and down, through dark hallways and past other traps. Then I notice a doorway up in front of us, with a small light shining down from a spot inside it. Pighead pauses and undoes the restraints tying me in, patting my shoulder as he disregards them. Then he pushes me through.

I look towards the light and see Detective Troy Franz lying there on the floor in his boxer shorts, the light shining on him and a TV next to him. The device around his head is a gruesome-looking thing: it's got two blunt plates on either end, a hinge at the base of the neck that I'm assuming is supposed to snap the thing together once time runs out. I also see a tiny little lock on the side of the device as well as a timer on the back. I shiver. His head's silly putty if he's not careful.

Pighead taps my shoulder again. When I look up at him he lays a finger over his mouth, a sign I'm supposed to keep quiet, and then gently shifts the bandages aside to reveal a small key on a chain around my neck. I'm not sure I understand. Is that for me? How long has it been there? It's when Pighead taps the key and points it towards the trapped detective that I understand what he means.

There's a soft groan, and we both remain in the shadows and watch as Detective Franz stirs. He blinks several times and then lets out a sort of whimper before standing up. Then he notices the device around his neck. He starts pulling at it crazily, trying to get it off.

The TV abruptly snaps on, causing him to look at it. I know who's on the other end without needing to look at it. The voice is familiar to me now.

 _"Hello, Detective. For a time you were on top of the world of crime-fighting, solving cases every other day and enjoying the 'occasional' drink with the guys. Then you heard about your son being in trouble, and you threatened your superior to put you on the case. You interviewed your son, but didn't give the truth in his witness statement. You chose to protect him, Detective, instead of letting him face judgment by trial. And in doing so, you threatened the one person who remembered the truth, the one person who remembered everything."_

While the tape is playing Pighead begins to wheel me forward. I don't say anything, listening to the tape, staring at him with a cold look on my face. Detective Franz, still hypnotized by the tape, doesn't notice us at first until the lines 'the one person who remembered the truth'. Then he looks up and sees me. Shock sprawls onto his face. He's not expecting me here. I don't smile as I stare at him. I'm bone-cold. I _hate_ him. _HATE_.

 _"You threatened Griffith, knowing he was in an extreme state of mind due to his injuries. You forced his body to overload and send him into a state of mental panic, trapping him inside for hours. Though the hospital staff forced you to leave, you swore to return and force Griffith to confess to crimes he never committed as well as send him to death row. You did actually fill out the documents to charge him for all the crimes; you just couldn't file them yet because your team hadn't finished analyzing the evidence. You were confident you had saved your son. You thought then that you were in control, Detective. Now your victim is the one in control.  
_

 _"The device you are wearing is, you could say, a rendition of the Venus Flytrap plant, but with a few extra lethal touches. Griffith has the key to release you from your trap. If you want to live, Detective, you have to convince him to give you that key. If he chooses not to give you the key, or if the timer runs out, the jaws will close. What will you do to help your victim, Detective? Or are you still focused on yourself?"_

I see a timer start behind him. 1:00:00. 0:59:48.

Detective Franz starts reaching out towards me. He thinks he can snatch the key from around my neck. He hasn't realized he's shackled to the floor and can't move; the shackle forces him to stop several feet from me. "Griffith," he says, his voice hiding panic and fear, "give me the key."

"Why?" I demand immediately, my own voice icy cold with hatred.

"Griffith," Detective Franz insists, "give me the damn key!"

"Why?" I repeat. "Give me one reason why I should give you your freedom."

0:45:51.

"I was wrong!" Detective Franz cries. "I was completely wrong about my son! I shouldn't have believed him! I should have believed you when you told me everything!"

I glare at him angrily. "Are you that thick-skulled? I was unconscious! How could I have possibly told you anything, _Detective?!_ " I spit his title in his face. I want him to feel shame for what he's done. "You caused me to overload, sent me into a panic! You tried to blame me for the crimes your son committed!"

Detective Franz is taken aback by my vicious comments. "Griffith, I was a complete _idiot!_ I - I let my family get in the way of my job, of doing my job right!" He looks back at the clock and then looks at me. "If I hadn't let my feelings get in the way - "

"Your _feelings_?!" I snap. "You didn't give a damn about me! You just wanted to protect your own f**ing son from the executioner's chair, and that meant using me as a scapegoat!"

0:30:01.

"You know I wouldn't send you to the executioner's chair, Griffith!" Detective Franz cries. "Please just give me the key!"

I recite darkly, "'If you don't talk I shall charge you with nine counts of first-degree murder. I'll see you straight to the executioner's room. You're not getting away with this, boy.' I remember all of it, Detective. Every. Single. Word. I'm not playing games with you any more. I've had it."

Detective Franz's eyes go white. He _knows_ I'm serious now.

0:19:21.

Now the detective falls to his knees. "Please, Griffith, please give me the key," he begs, his hands in a prayer motion. "I'll write for a full pardon for you. Send my own son to justice. Resign from the force. I'll do anything to see your side get out!"

I take the key from around my neck and hold it towards him. Detective Franz reaches for it, but it's just out of his reach. I look at him, thinking about his offer.

"Please, Griffith," he begs again. "Please..."

00:10:00.

I cock my head slightly, still looking at him...

...and place the key back around my neck.

Detective Franz starts begging and pleading; he dives forward, trying to snatch the key from my hands. Pighead wheels me backwards; I'm guessing he doesn't want me hurt or sprayed with blood. The detective struggles with the chains for the next few seconds.

3\. 2. 1.

Game over.

There's a creaking sound and the trap snaps shut, crushing the detective's head. Blood and brains and tissues fly everywhere. The detective doesn't stand a chance. His lifeless corpse falls on the ground, the clank of the trap as it hits the floor sending sound waves through the air.

I feel a strange calm looking at his body. It's relaxing, seeing one of my tormentors lying there dead on the ground. Usually I'd be horrified, but now... now I'm not so sure I have feelings any more.

"Game over," I say aloud. My voice sounds dark and grim, like the Reaper.

Pighead pats my shoulder. One down, three to go.

"I assume the others are in their own tests?" I ask him.

Pighead nods, and he starts talking. He's using a voice distorter, so I don't know what his real voice sounds like. "They'll be on the move soon," he says. "They'll be coming in here. I suggest we aren't here when they arrive."

"Agreed," I say. "Let's get out of here."

He wheels me out and we head back the way we came.


	11. Chapter 11

After a few more minutes of wheeling through the dark, we arrive at a second room. This one has a series of cameras and a switchboard with a few chairs. Pighead parks me in front of the cameras and sits down at the switchboard. He taps a few buttons and pulls up the room we were just in. The blood's still pooling underneath the flat plates, and with a loud _screeeeeeeeeech_ the hinges creaked open once again, revealing a bloody stump, crushed bone and hair, crushed eyes, crushed brains... it's enough to make anybody vomit.

Pighead turns up the sound on the computer and points towards the corner of the screen. I see footsteps and then I see - and hear - my "friends" entering. They haven't noticed the trap or Jacks' father yet; they're talking about _me_.

"He's dead, Dina! Dead and won't be returning! You saw that bloody mess on the floor," Jacks is saying as they enter the room.

"That might be the case, but I'm still worried that it might come back to bite us!" Dina protests quietly, holding on to Jacks' arm.

"I know," Jacks comforts her. "When we get out of here we'll go find my dad and tell him our version -"

Jenny lets out a shriek: she's seen the corpse and the trap.

Her shriek catches the other two's attention, and it's here that they see the trap... and who's in it. Jacks lets out a yell. "Oh my god! Dad!"

The looks of shock on their faces and their looks as they rush towards the corpse and then stop are nothing compared to my cold glare. Pighead laughs softly, a kind of short, snorting laugh.

Jenny notices the TV and hits _rewind_. After a few minutes of rewinding the tape, the noises stop and the tape plays from the beginning. They stop moving and listen to the tape, listen to the so-called detective's crimes. It's when they hear _"_ _And in doing so, you threatened the one person who remembered the truth, the one person who remembered everything"_ that their eyes become wide as saucers and the shock explodes. Jacks falls backwards and Jenny collapses, crying hard. Dina puts her arms around her and hugs her reassuringly.

Jacks stops the tape. "Oh no." He looks at the other two. "Griffith's not dead."

"He has to be dead! We left him back there in that chamber with the bat! He has to be dead! He has to be!" Dina cries. "Keep playing the tape!"

Reluctantly Jacks presses _play_ again. The tape continues onwards, concluding with the knowledge that I have the key to free him. When it ends on " _What will you do to help your victim, Detective? Or are you still focused on yourself?"_ the TV returns to static.

"Will you accept now that he's not dead?!" Jacks cries angrily. "I should've bashed his head in while I was at it! Or slit his throat or something!"

"Jacks, calm down!" Dina says, grabbing his arms and stopping him from hitting the TV. "Griffith is dead, and he won't be coming back. If he did have a key on him, then it died with him. You beat him to death yourself, Jacks. Face it. _He's. Dead._ And he's _not_ coming back."

I snicker to myself. I know they're talking BS. I'm not dead. I want to reveal that I'm not dead to them, but Pighead shushes me and points back at the camera. "They can't know yet," he says. "They need to keep thinking you're dead."

I shrug. "If it's what Jigsaw's planning..."

Now we turn back to the show. Jenny's still crying hard, Jacks is struggling to calm down and Dina is comforting him. I start feeling a little sympathy for Jenny, but then Jacks takes over.

"Look, we need to come up with a plan in case he _is_ still alive," he said. "Obviously nobody's going to believe his story since we've already gotten ours out there. But because my dad is dead, they'll be looking for the culprit. We need to _blame him_ for _everything_. If we don't do that and he gets his story out, we're all in big trouble."

"We're already in big trouble," Jenny whimpers. "He's not going to forgive us for doing this to him! We're all going to die!"

"We are _not_ going to die, Jenny!" Jacks says angrily. "We have to stay calm. We will get out of here alive and tell our side of the story. And if he _is_ alive, we'll all kill him once and for all."

"We should keep going," Dina says hesitantly. "We still haven't found the way out of here."

After some more talking, they get up and exit the room. Pighead turns back to me. "It isn't over yet," he says. "There are still some games to be played. It is Jigsaw's will. The games will continue." He stands back up and pushes another button, showing me a different camera. This one has a whole bunch of pictures and things in it - I think they're stuffed toys.

Pighead grins beneath his mask (I assume that's why his voice sounds so happy). "Jigsaw knows what to do for them. He was like you."

I don't bother asking what he meant by that. "What happens now? Do we wait for them to enter another trap? We can't let them go!"

"I know you don't want to," Pighead says, patting my shoulder. "But as I said, it is Jigsaw's will. They have the 'survival instinct' but they lack the proper tools of how to use it. we know what they want from us, so it is now that we have to act."

"So what do we do?" I ask. "Sit here and wait?"

Surprisingly Pighead nods. "Sit here and wait, yes," he said. "And talk, I think."

"What about?"

"What you want to do with them when all is said and done."

"So there is another trap that we have to wait for?"

Pighead points back to the room with pictures and stuffed toys. "Some of those toys are from the deceased family, some from the trio's own homes as well. The pictures are of their previous lives, their lives before the accident. They will have to find a key to get through the door there" - he points towards a door obscured by the rest of the pictures - "and when they do get through that door, three of our associates will be waiting for them."

"What will they be doing?" I ask.

Pighead holds up his hand like he's holding a syringe. "Knock them out and place them in their final trap. You will be a part of that trap. But in order for you to be a part of it, you must eat, drink, and rest. You are exhausted and drained of energy, and not just because you were attacked."

I nod and let him wheel me over to the far side of the room. There is a bed here, with some food and a glass of water on a table next to it. Pighead undoes the straps keeping me in the chair and helps me climb up on the bed. He also helps me eat and drink, and covers me with a soft blanket. I realize he's right as I'm drinking the glass of water. I am pretty tired.

Pighead tucks me in and says softly, "I will wake you when they are being placed in the trap, and take you down to them when it is time for them to wake up." He gently pats my head and walks back over to the screens, dimming the brightness so that it doesn't distract my eyes.

I lie there for a few minutes, pondering if I've made the right choices.

 _The detective deserved it. He caused me to spasm out and overload, and would have killed me if I hadn't been kidnapped._

 _But what about Jacks? Dina? Jenny? They were there and didn't do anything to help me._

 _Obviously they have to die. Jacks does - I know he does; he fed the detective that sob story that I was guilty. Pathetic piece of sh*t._

 _Dina has to go with him. She babies him all the time, and her 'acting' would make any director sob because of how terrible it is... but it sure tricked that detective father of Jacks' into believing them and not me._

 _But what about Jenny? She's been supportive of me the entire time. She tried to stop them for doing what they're doing. I don't understand what it is I need to do here... do I let her live? Do I let her die? I don't know._

The battle rages onwards as I eventually drift off to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

I blink a couple of times as I wake up. I feel rested for once, and there's a fresh set of food and drink beside the bed. I look around carefully, trying not to re-injure myself, and I spot Pighead standing next to the bed.

"Not much time," he says, helping me sit up and giving me the glass of water. "They're unconscious all right, but it took a while longer than I thought it would." He passes me a slice of - I think it's toast - and starts prepping the wheelchair.

"What happened?" I ask between bites. "Did something go wrong?"

Pighead nods. "They chose to fall asleep in the stuffed toys room and then found the way out a few minutes ago. My fellows have just sedated them and are taking them to the trap now," he says, carefully lifting me up and setting me down in the chair. "It won't be too long before the sedative wears off, so we have to move quickly."

I understand and let him strap me in. "Of course," I tell him. "Out of curiosity, what did they have to do in the toy room to find the key?"

"Use the flame to burn the toys and the pictures," Pighead responds. "The toys to find the key. The pictures to find the door. Don't worry; they didn't die of smoke inhalation or being burned alive..." I notice the tone of his voice and conclude he enjoyed watching that. I shiver, wondering about his sense of humor. "Though I think we could call it poetic justice if that were the case," he adds.

I don't say anything but finish one slice and start on the next.

Pighead walks back towards the screens, picks something up and then comes back over to me. "I took the liberty of retrieving the key for the detective's trap," he says, "and now I give you this one." He holds it out towards my head; instinctively I bend over a little so he can place it around my neck.

I finish that slice and then look at the key. Honestly it looks like a house key or something, but I guess it has some sort of significance.

Pighead starts wheeling me towards the door. We pass through it and head back down the dark hallway, not speaking to each other. The battle's still raging inside my head.

 _Jacks and Dina have to pay._

 _But what about Jenny?_

 _What about her? She has to pay too!_

 _JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!_

I've had enough of my mind fighting over who to spare and who to kill. I don't really know what to do.

I'm still thinking as Pighead wheels me into a very big room, a room with three big tanks in it... or at least I think they are tanks. I notice Jigsaw's standing off to one side, monitoring the situation. Pighead wheels me over to him.

"Morning, Griffith," Jigsaw says, not bothering to look at me.

"Morning," I say back.

I look at the trap in question. Three other goons are there in pig masks, lifting my so-called 'friends' into the trap. As they do so Jigsaw starts talking to me again.

"Would you like to know what is going on?" he asks.

"Sure," I say, not sure I want to know, but as this is the final test, I feel like I ought to in case things go bottoms-up.

"These devices," Jigsaw says, gesturing to them, "are different than what you have encountered so far. Each one has a separate vise - or should I say method of death. It corresponds with each person's... obsessions."

"Such as...?"

"Jacks Franz's drug of choice is alcohol; Dina Hancock prefers wine or vodka; your friend Jenny also takes to alcohol, though not as much as some," Jigsaw says. "Now, this is where you come in. You get to decide who lives and who dies."

He gets behind my wheelchair and points towards a control panel. "These buttons all correspond with a method of death and a person. There is also a button that can be used to spare somebody. The option is yours, of course, if you want to spare them. You insert your key to start up the machines."

"To sentence someone?"

Jigsaw gestures to the green buttons. "Green first, red second."

"And to spare someone?"

"Green first... but to spare, you must turn the key to the right. This will activate the yellow button, and that will spare."

I nod slowly. "I understand. What else is there that I must know?"

Jigsaw grins. "You have the bud of a future apprentice of mine, Griffith, what with your keen knowledge. The green buttons are representive of the tanks. For instance, if you were to press the one on the left..."

"...I'd be selecting Jacks?" I say.

"Exactly."

I watch as the trio are lowered into the tanks. I pay attention to who's in which one: Jacks is in the far left; Dina is in the middle; and Jenny's in the far right. I then look at the buttons - the red ones, the ones that are supposed to be for punishments. One of them has a flame emblem and the other two had mug emblems. The yellow button also has an emblem - but it's a little... either an angel or a skull and crossbones. It's hard for me to tell what it is.

Jigsaw pats my shoulder and walks towards the door. "I believe you will be good from this point onwards, Griffith," he says. "One of my assistants will escort you out once you've healed up considerably. Afterwards, what you need to do is - and it is quite simple - go into hiding."

"I thought I told the truth," I say, confused.

"I know," Jigsaw says. "But I have a feeling that it won't do much good if you went out like you normally did."

With that he leaves. I merely sit there, thinking about what to do.

 _The detective died because I let him. His son and his friends are here in front of me. Is what I'm doing right? Is what I'm doing wrong?_

 _They blamed me for everything that_ they _did. How am I supposed to go about this?  
_

 _Is this right, letting them die? Is it wrong that I kill them?_

 _I don't know._

Pighead wheels me backwards to hide in the shadows. "In a matter of minutes they will wake up," he explains. "Stay quiet until you are mentioned. I will remain here with you if you request."

"Please do," I tell him. "Please do."

I realize my mind is starting to go out again. I close my eyes and I see myself back at the accident. I hear the voice who called 911. I recognize it too.

Pighead's the one who brings me back, giving me a drink of water. "Are you all right?" he asks me. "You're sweating."

"I am?" I say shakily.

"You are. Are you all right?"

I don't do anything at first, not sure of what to say to this. "I don't know," I admit. "I really don't."

Pighead pats my shoulder. "Relax," he said. "You're going to be fine. You just need to think about what you want to do right now." He gestures towards a set of multiple tape recorders. "These will tell more than just the trap. One of my 'friends' has a few other juicy details included in it as well."

Now the waiting game began.


	13. Chapter 13

I don't know how long we wait. I lose track of time pretty quickly. Pighead's kindly had a lackey bring me some food and water, since I hadn't had much to eat; now he helps me eat quietly in the dark. There are three spotlights now over the three tanks, and as I watch I notice Jenny starting to stir. I tap Pighead on the shoulder and point towards the tank.

He stops, puts the food aside, and gets behind the wheelchair. He's waiting for something.

Jenny's now fully conscious, and she's noticed by now that something is very, _very_ wrong. Her face goes from confusion to fear as she realizes what's happening to her. She then looks around but can't see me due to the spotlights. She _does_ , however, spot Pighead and starts to panic, crumpling up down on the floor of the tank. It's here that Pighead intervenes: he steps out from behind the chair and goes over to the tank.

I watch him look up at her, make a shushing motion and say something to her and then walk back towards me and stand behind the chair again. He says, his voice soft enough for me to hear but not her, "She is afraid and has the appearance of crying out and begging for help. I have told her to stay quiet and remain calm." He then adds, "It appears Dina and Jacks are waking up now. Get ready, Griffith."

I swallow uneasily and agree. "All right then."

Sure enough, Jacks and Dina are both waking up. Jacks lets out a groan and starts moving around. Then his hands bump the clear and metal walls of the tank, and he snaps back to his usual "charming" self. He starts pounding on the glass and looking around frantically. Dina is also in panic mode, looking for a way out. They both spot Jenny and start yelling at her.

"Jen, what the hell happened?!" Dina cries.

"Jen, say something for god's sake!" Jacks yells.

Jenny says nothing but points towards Pighead. Jacks and Dina look towards him, and at that precise moment Pighead holds up a switch with a button and pushes the button. Jigsaw's voice comes rocketing out of speakers placed all over the room, forcing them to freeze and look around worriedly. I just stare at them, not moving a muscle. They haven't seen me yet.

 _"Hello, Jacks Franz, Dina Hancock, and Jenny Kinkle. I think you all know why you are here, but I will gladly refresh your memory if you do not. A month ago you and your friends were at a barn. You were all heavily drunk save for Jenny, who'd only had a few drinks, and you were all smoking cigarettes. In your drunken stupor, you decided to torment Ben Gully by severely doping his horses and covering them and the barn floor with gasoline. The farmer spotted you, and in response you set his barn alight and fled. Your friend, Griffith Caffing, was trapped in the bed of your pickup, Jacks, and when you drunkenly rammed into a family's van you catapulted him from the bed and left him for dead. If it were not for the anonymous 911 call, he would have most certainly died.  
_

 _"But you, Jacks, realized the danger you and your friends were in. If anybody told the truth, you'd all have been going to prison for what you'd done. When you found out your father was on the case, you rallied your friends and told them that they were to all blame Griffith for what you'd done. You told this story to your father, Detective Troy Franz, and he believed every word of it. So much so that he went to the hospital and tried to confront Griffith... and nearly killed him in the process._

 _"Then we found you, and brought you here. You've all been through so much, and that includes the brutal murders of your friends and Griffith... but that, you must admit, was on you. It was your attempt to shut him up that brought you all here, at last, to your final test. However... there is still more to the story."_

Pighead grips the handles of my wheelchair, and I already know what's about to happen. Time to reveal myself. I listen to Jigsaw talk and wait.

 _"You see, what you didn't realize was that when you told your story to the newspapers and to the press, you didn't know at all whether Griffith had remembered everything. You were scared that he had, and as a result, beat him over the head with a bat and stabbed him several times in an attempt to kill him once and for all. You breezed through the tests, forcing him to complete every one and demolishing him when he failed. You all were so convinced that you'd managed to get away with murder once and for all that you stopped caring, that you decided to turn on Jenny, threatening her if she decided to talk. Dina had the most leverage; you, Dina, were her babysitter, and threatened her constantly if she talked. You even attempted to drug her one time, to attempt to convince her that she never made the 911 call to save Griffith's life in the accident.  
_

 _"You both kept her from interfering, and forced Griffith to go through all your traps like you're some sort of special person. You think it's all over. You think once you've miraculously gotten through this trap, it'll be all over.  
_

 _"There's just one small problem: Griffith is alive. And he remembers **everything**."_

The second he says those words Pighead wheels me forward into the light. I stare up at them, a cold look on my face. Jacks' and Dina's jaws drop open. Jenny hangs her head in defeat.

 _"You abandoned him then just as you abandoned him now. Then you were the power players. Now he is in charge. Around his neck he has a key, and in front of him is a machine. This machine he will use to decide your fates. There are three fates you could face: the fate of the farmer and his horses, the fate of the family, or the fate of your addiction to alcohol. But there is also a fourth - he could also spare you if he decided to."  
_

At this point the machine lights up. It's active. All the lights turn on in the room and I now see the full extent of this trap. This is a pretty complicated trap; I have to give Jigsaw that one. The power felt good. I just stare at them listening to Jigsaw talk and soaking up the fear.

 _"He could, of course, elect to spare you. But he also, of course, could elect to kill you. He makes the final decisions. Oh, and one other thing: you can try to convince him to spare you. But I'm not so sure he wants to. Live or die. Make your choice."_


	14. Chapter 14: The End

I stare at them at first. There's no time limit. It's all down to me. Pighead gently pats my shoulder and backs up a few steps; he's told me that he's here in case I require his aid. Which I might if they decide to try to pull one over on me.

Jacks is the first one to speak. "How the hell did he know about all that?!" he stammers.

"Never mind that!" Dina cries. "How the hell are we going to get out of here?!"

"Weren't you listening?" I say coldly. "Only I can do that."

They're all shocked to hear me speak, hear my voice after they thought I was dead. Jenny's still curled up on the floor, whimpering and crying. She's so frightened she doesn't know what to do. Jacks and Dina look at me for a moment and then Dina starts speaking.

"Griffith," she says slowly, "let us out. It was all good, wasn't it? All good times?"

"You're not convincing me, Dina," I tell her. My eyes narrow in anger. "You abandoned me on the road. You forced me through all your traps. You beat me nearly to death. Give me one good reason why I should let you live."

Jacks speaks up. His voice is filled with anger. "You let my dad die!" he snarls. "Why the f**k did you do that?! He was doing what he thought was best for his investigation-"

"That would've involved killing me," I correct him darkly. "You fed him complete _lies_ just to get my ass killed!"

Big mistake. Jacks snarls, "You were _nothing_ to us, Griffith! Nothing but a piece of sh*t scapegoat, and a damn good one at that! I don't know why he didn't kill you in the hospital! It would've saved us the chore here! Now let me out!"

Now I've had it with Jacks. I was willing to give him a chance, and now he's just sealed his fate. I push the left green button.

A voice says, "Jackson Franz."

Everyone freezes, including me (for a moment at least). Then Jacks realizes I've selected him, as a green light has appeared in front of his tank. "Griffith? Griffith, what the hell are you doing?" he says worryingly. "Griffith?! Griffith, let me out! Let me out!"

In the coldest voice I can muster, _"Absolutely not."_

I move my hand over towards the button with the beer mug, but decide instead to go with the flames.

"Griffith, _please!_ Let me out!" Jacks is _begging_ by this point.

With my hand hovered over the fire button, I look at him and say, _"Game over."_

Then I push it.

Flames erupt from the floor and consume him in seconds. His screams don't last too long; I suspect that the flames have burned his throat and lungs as well as his skin... and essentially cooked him like a fried chicken. His horribly burnt corpse doesn't last too long either; as soon as the flames shut off there's nothing left except a small pile of ashes. With him down, I turn towards the women.

But first I look at Pighead and beckon him forward. I ask him quietly so that the others can't hear, "Does the sparing button release the tanks immediately, or does it take time?"

"It takes time," Pighead replies, also soft enough so I can hear. "About a minute for the signal to register. We've tried fixing it to speed it up, but we've had no such luck."

"Good," I tell him.

Dina's angry (I can hear it in her voice, even though she masks it as best as she can), and she says, "Jenny never called 911, Griffith. It was me. I convinced Jacks to let me call, but he told me that Jenny was threatening him and she soon turned on me! Jigsaw's lying about all of that!"

I look at Jenny. She's crying so hard that if she wanted to say something she couldn't.

"Griffith, you've got to believe me!" Dina begs. "Jenny is behind this, not me! The fact that she's crying is a sign of her guilt! Punish her!"

It's at this point that Pighead steps forward and holds something up. It's a tape recorder. He presses play, and two voices come rolling out. It's a 911 call.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"There's been an accident on Clover Lane."

"Okay, can you tell me what's happened, ma'am?"

"The truck I was in slammed into a van. Both are up in flames!" There's sobbing as well. "One of my friends is badly hurt! I need an ambulance here! Please!"

"Okay, ma'am, I need you to calm down. Are there others injured?"

Abruptly the phone cuts off before the voice can answer. There's screaming on the other end and then a loud thump! The operator is left saying "Hello? Hello? Ma'am?"

Pighead pauses the tape and looks at me. "Do you recognize that voice?" he asks.

I nod. "Yes. I do recognize it." I looked at Dina. I don't tell her if it was hers.

Pighead then pulls out another tape and presses _play_ on that one. Immediately I hear what's going on. Jenny and Dina hear it too.

First the 911 operator: "Okay, ma'am, I need you to calm down. Are there others injured?"

"Ye-"

Then I hear a new series of voices. Drunken ones.

"She's calling 911! Get her!"

"No! Get off me! Leave me alone!"

Screaming. Everybody's jumping on the caller and beating her up heavily. Then I hear some words I wasn't expecting to hear:

"You'll be next if you don't shut your mouth, brat! Jacks, gimme your knife! Flo, light up a cigarette!"

More screaming and pleading. Then someone remembers the phone and I think they chuck it.

Then the recording stops. Now I'm even angrier.

I look over at Dina. She's not even scared now. I look over at Jenny. She's sobbing so hard it's visible. I know immediately what I have to do.

"You see what they've done to me?" Dina says. "They've promised to kill me if I didn't do as they said! You have to punish her.

I remove the key from around my neck and place it in the keyhole, activating the possible save point. Dina sees this and her face lights up. She thinks I'm about to save her. She doesn't know how wrong she is.

Apparently what she didn't realize is that I know who called 911. I've seen the marks in the past - not of course after the accident, but still - so I know what's going on. I've had enough. It's time to act.

I push the green button on the far right and hear the voice say Jenny's name. Jenny's whimpers grow louder. I turn the key to the side and the yellow button lights up. I look dead at Dina.

I push the yellow button. I bet Dina thinks that it'll kill her. True to Pighead's word, the mechanism to free Jenny doesn't activate immediately, giving me time to deal with Dina.

"You're one hell of a liar, Dina," I say aloud, thinking of the timer in my head.

"No - you don't understand, Griffith," Dina says. "You're seeing this from the wrong point of view. Jenny's been trying to get me killed since the accident -"

I cut her off. "That's bullsh*t and you know it, Dina. You've been punishing her for trying to help me. I've seen the marks on her arms and legs. Putting out your cigarettes on her body, beating her up so she has bruises and forcing her to explain them away, threatening her if she told anybody that you would kill her. It doesn't take long to put two and two together, Dina."

"No, Griffith, that's not true!" Dina protests.

I push the green button in the middle. I've had enough.

"Dina Hancock."

I look at the buttons left. Now I realize that they're a mug of beer and an anvil, like a crusher trap. Which one would be more appropriate? I elect to go with the beer, and hover my hand over that one.

Pighead goes over and stands next to Jenny's tank. A few seconds later there's a clicking sound and the bottom of the glass panel disconnects and begins winding its way upwards. Jenny looks up, tears still dripping from her eyes; Pighead reaches in and pulls her trembling body out of the tank and starts walking her over to me.

 _"Griffith, no!"_ Dina yells. _"GRIFFITH!"_

I look at her and say coldly, _"Game over."_

Then I push the button.

A tube slides in from the roof and beer starts sloshing into the tank. Dina's pleas grow more fierce as she starts struggling for her life. I look over at the sobbing Jenny and pull her into my arms. Her head buries itself in my shoulder as she wraps her arms around my frail body, hugging me tight but gently so as to not hurt me further.

Now I watch Dina die. It's a slow death, I'll admit it now, but it's the one she deserves for doing this to her. I watch the tank fill up with alcohol. I watch Dina take a massive gulp of air before it covers her head. I watch her struggle fruitlessly, banging hard against the tank. Then I see her mouth open. Air bubbles come rushing out as beer floods into her lungs. Before long she's also a corpse.

I lose track of time again after that. I'm just sitting there, holding Jenny, comforting her.

Finally, the nightmare is over.


End file.
